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1 

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32X 


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5 

6 

SAVONAROLA 


HIS    LIFE    AND    TIMES 


•t.. 


SAVONAROLA 


"^ifi  U(t  anD  Cimeji 


BY 


WILLIAM    CLARK,  M.A.,  LL.D. 

PROFESSOR   OF   PHILOSOPHY    IN  TRINITY  COLLEGE,   TORONTO 


CHICAGO 

A.    C.   McCLURG   AND   COMPANY 

1890 


1)6 
72)7 


Copyright, 

By  a.  C.  McClurg  and  Co. 

A.D.  1890. 


PREFACE. 


The  life  and  character  of  Savonarola  have  been  rightly 
supposed  to  present  great  difficulties  to  the  historian.  From 
the  day  of  his  death  —  nay,  more,  from  the  d?y  of  his  power 
in  Florence  —  up  to  our  own  times,  opinions  the  most  diverse 
have  been  entertained  respecting  his  character,  his  motives, 
his  conduct.  While  his  enemies  have  denounced  him  as  a 
rebel  against  the  sovereign  Pontiff  —  in  later  times  they 
have  hardly  dared  to  call  him  a  heretic  —  and  as  a  dis- 
turber of  the  commonwealth,  his  followers  and  admirers 
have  regarded  him  as  a  saint  and  a  hero,  and  have  vene- 
rated his  memory  as  that  of  a  martyr. 

The  supporters  of  despotism,  ecclesiastical  and  civil, 
have  cherished  a  feeling  of  bitter  enmity  against  the  man 
who  had  such  an  ardent  love  of  liberty  ;  and  they  have 
been  joined  by  the  prophets  of  scepticism,  who  have  had 
nothing  but  contempt  and  hatred  for  one  who  was  so  pow- 
erful a  witness  for  religion  and  for  God. 

According  to  the  sceptic  Bayle,  he  was  a  ridiculous  and 
base  impostor,  who  richly  deserved  the  fate  that  befell  him. 
According  to  Roscoe,  who  found  it  difficult  to  believe  any- 
thing good  of  one  who  was  so  consistent  and  steadfast  an 
opponent  of  his  idolized  Medici,  he  was  an  arrogant  and 
ambitious  priest,  half  imp  ^stor  and  half  fanatic.  The  errors 
of  Roscoe  were  partly  traditional,  partly  depended  upon  his 
defective  point  of  view,  and  partly  arose  from  his  being 


5  PREFACE. 

unacquainted  with  many  of  the  original  documents  which 
throw  light  upon  the  age  of  which  he  wrote. 

It  was  only  quite  lately  that  an  attempt  was  made  to  re- 
write the  history  of  Savonarola  and  his  times  on  the  basis 
of  contemporary  documents  and  the  testimony  of  contem- 
porary writers.  Rudelbach  was  the  first  who  seriously 
undertook  this  work,  and  he  accomplished  his  task  with 
German  industry  and  thoroughness.  Although  he  has  con- 
siderably detracted  from  the  value  of  his  book  by  his  persis- 
tent attempt  to  prove  that  Savonarola  was  a  Protestant,  all 
subsequent  writers  are  greatly  indebted  to  his  researches. 

Rudelbach's  work  was  published  in  iSjSs  and  was  suc- 
ceeded in  1836  by  that  of  his  countryman,  Meier,  who  also 
brought  to  light  documents  and  facts  which  had  been  pre- 
viously unknown.  This  writer  also  marred  his  work  by 
endeavoring  to  prove  that  Savonarola  held  the  doctrines  of 
Luther.  In  spite  of  this,  I  have  been  greatly  indebted  to 
him  and  his  predecessor. 

The  next  important  life  of  Savonarola  was  written  by 
M.  Perrens,  an  eminent  authority  on  Florentine  history, 
and  published  in  1853.  This  writer  had  the  advantage  of 
using  the  materials  collected  by  the  Padre  Marchese,  who 
had  taken  a  deep  interest  in  the  life  of  Savonarola,  and 
belonged  to  his  own  order.i  It  cannot  be  denied  that 
Perrens  made  diligent  use  of  these  materials  and  of  other 
documents  which  he  found  at  Florence.  He  made  himself 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  his  subject,  and  he  produced  a 
well-written  and  readable  book ;  still,  there  is  a  want  of  con- 
sistency in  his  views  of  Savonarola's  character  and  history 
which  renders  his  work  in  many  respects  unsatisfactory.* 

*  He  edited  some  of  the  unpublished  letters  of  Savonarola, 
and  published  a  history  of  the  convent  of  St.  Mark's,  and  other 
works  bearing  on  the  same  subject. 

*  It  is  the  more  necessary  to  note  this,  since  Dean  Milman's 
article  in  the  Quarterly  Review,  subsequently  republished  among 
his  miscellaneous  works,  has  given  currency,  among  readers  of 
English,  to  the  view  of  M.  Perrens. 


) 


PREFACE. 


7 


Jments  which 

s  made  to  re- 
'  on  the  basis 
y  of  contem- 
ho  seriously 
'is  task  with 
>  he  has  con- 
»y  his  persis- 
rotestant,  all 
•esearches. 
»d  was  suc- 
!r.  who  also 
d  been  pre- 
is  work  by 
loctrines  of 
indebted  to 

written  by 
le  history, 
vantage  of 
hese,  who 
irola,  and 
nied  that 
I  of  other 
e  himself 
oduced  a 
Jt  of  con- 
d  history 
ctory.2 

i^onarola, 
nd  other 

'Oilman's 
among 
aders  of 


The  life  of  Perrens  was,  however,  the  best  that  had  been 
written  until  Professor  Villari  published  his  "  History  of 
Girolamo  Savonarola  and  his  Times."  *  Whether  we  con- 
sider the  fulness  of  his  researches,  or  the  true  historical 
spirit  in  which  Villari  composed  his  book,  it  must  be 
allowed  that  he  has  done  the  work  almost  as  well  as  it  can 
be  done.  As  a  bork  for  Italians  and  for  those  who  take 
an  interest  in  the  philosophical  doctrines  of  Savonarola,  it 
can  hardly  ever  be  excelled,  and  can  never  be  entirely  set 
aside. 

To  Signor  Villari  I  owe  much  more  than  to  any  other 
writer,  and  I  have  hardly  ever  ventured  to  differ  from  him 
without  much  consideration.  It  will  be  evident,  however, 
to  careful  readers  that  I  have  followed  him  in  no  servile 
spirit.  I  have  done  my  best  to  understand  the  history  and 
character  of  the  man  whom  I  have  undertaken  to  describe, 
and  I  have  endeavored  to  tell  the  story  simply  and  plainly, 
as  I  have  myself  been  able  to  understand  it. 

Since  the  fruits  of  my  study  of  the  life  of  Savonarola 
were  first  published,  several  contributions  to  the  subject  of 
considerable  importance  have  appeared.  First  and  chief  of 
these  is  an  essay  on  Savonarola  in  a  volume  of  historico- 
biographical  studies  by  the  great  German  historian  Ranke 
(Leipzig,  1877).  Next  comes  a  very  interesting  study  by 
Pfere  Bayonne  (Paris,  1879),  a  member  of  the  same  order 
and  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  Savonarola.  Finally,  Pro- 
fessor Villari  has  put  forth  a  carefully  revised  and  almost 
rewritten  edition  of  his  great  Life  (Florence,  1888),  in 
which  he  has  made  a  few  corrections  and  alterations,  some 
of  them  based  upon  documents  previously  unknown. 

I  have  been  careful  to  consult  all  those  modern  writers 
from  whom  I  expected  to  obtain  help  for  my  work,  and 
I   have  made  ample  acknowledgment  of  my  obligations 

1  La  Storia  di  Girolamo  Savonarola  e  de'  suoi  tempi,  narrata 
da  Pasquale  Villari,  con  1'  aiuto  di  nuovi  documenti.  Firenze  : 
Le  Monnier,  vol.  i.  1859 ;  vol.  ii.  1861. 


9  PREFACE. 

wherever  I  was  conscious  of  them.  Sometimes  I  have 
thought  it  better  to  quote  their  very  words.  But  it  must 
not  be  supposed  that  I  have  obtained  my  information  gen- 
erally at  second  hand.  I  have  studied  all  the  principal  ori- 
ginal sources,  and  have  commonly  told  the  story  in  their 
language.  For  the  sake  of  any  who  may  care  to  follow  me 
in  these  studies,  I  may  mention  the  Lives  of  Giovan  Fran- 
cesco Pico  della  Mirandola  and  Burlamacchi,  the  work  of 
Barsanti,  and  the  "  Cedrus  Libani  "  of  Yx\  Benedetto,  pub- 
lished in  the  splendid  Italian  "  Archivio  Storico."  I  should 
add  that  I  have  been  much  indebted  to  the  various  works 
of  Padre  Marchese,  published  in  the  same  collection. 

Of  the  works  of  Savonarola  I  have  carefully  studied  the 
"Compendium  Revelationum,"  the  "Trionfo  della  Croce," 
and  many  of  his  sermons  and  smaller  works,  as  well  as  his 
poems.  I  have  also  used  the  works  of  Machiavelli,  Guic- 
ciardini,  and  Sismondi ;  and  among  later  works,  Capponi's 
"  Storia  della  Repubblica  di  Firenze  "  and  Von  Reumont's 
"  Lorenzo  de'  Medici." 


WILLIAM   CLARK. 


Trinity  College,  Toronto. 
Midsummer,  1890. 


\ 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PACK 

I.  Italy  in  the  Fifteenth  Century  .    .  ii 

II.  Savonarola's  Birth  and  Early  Years  30 

III.  Monastic  Life  at  Bologna     ....  47 

IV.  The  Brother  of  St.  Mark's   ....  61 
V.  Florence  and  the  Medici 79 

VI.  The  Prior  of  St.  Mark's  and  Lorenzo 

the  Magnificent 101 

VII.  The  Preacher  and  Piero  de'  Medici  118 

VIII.  Monastic  Reform 131 

IX.  The  French  in  Italy 147 

X.  Revolution 172 

XI.  Reformation  of  Manners 191 

XII.  Divisions 208 

XIII.  The  Departure  of  the  French      .    .  219 

XIV.  Pope  Alexander  VI.  and  Savonarola  ^230 
XV.  The  Burning  of  the  "Vanities"    .    .  259 

XVI.  Treason 273 

XVII.  Renewed  Conflict  with  Rome   .    .    .  297 

XVIII.  The  Ordeal  by  Fire 308 

XIX.  Martyrdom 321 


SAVONAROLA. 


CHAPTER  I. 


ITALY  IN  THE   FIFfEENTH  CENTURY. 


In  order  to  understand  the  character  and  work  of  a 
man  who  belonged  so  entirely  to  his  own  age  as  Savo- 
narola, it  will  be  necessary  to  attempt  some  estimate, 
however  slight  and  imperfect,  of  the  times  in  which  he 
lived.  We  must  try  to  understand  something  of  the 
state  of  the  Roman  Empire,  of  which  Italy  was,  in  the- 
ory at  least,  the  centre  ;  of  the  condition  of  the  Papacy, 
the  great  fountain  of  authority  in  the  Western  Church  ; 
of  the  religious  orders;  of  the  intellectual  and  moral 
condition  of  the  people  at  large. 

Although  it  would  be  quite  impossible  to  un-Jerstand 
the  course  of  Florentine  history,  with  its  fierce  struggles 
between  Guelfs  and  Ghibellines,  apart  from  the  history 
of  the  Empire,  these  struggles  had  long  ceased  before 
the  age  of  Savonarola.  They  had,  indeed,  left  behind 
them  political  parties  which  had  sprung  out  of  them, 
and  party  feelings  whose  roots  were  buried  deep  in  those 
ancient  animosities ;  but  as  a  practical  question,  the 
state  of  the  Empire  hardly  concerns  the  student  of 
Italian  ecclesiastical  history  in  the  fifteenth  century. 
The  Empire  was  at  its  lowest  point,  and  the  Papacy  at 


12 


SAVONAROLA. 


i    ! 


'  1 


its  highest.  Frederick  III.  was  Emperor  and  Nicholas 
V.  was  Pope  when  Savonarola  was  born.  "  In  Frede- 
rick the  Third's  reign,"  says  Dr.  Bryce,^  "  the  Empire 
sank  to  its  lowest  point.  It  had  shot  forth  a  fitful  gleam 
under  Sigismund,  who,  in  convoking  and  presiding  over 
the  Council  of  Constance,  had  revived  one  of  the  high- 
est functions  of  his  predecessors.  .  .  .  Never  afterwards 
was  he  [the  Emperor],  in  the  eyes  of  Europe,  anything 
more  than  a  German  monarch."  It  was  just  the  reverse 
with  the  Papacy.  '*  The  Pontificate  of  Nicholas  V.," 
says  Dean  Milman,*^  "  is  the  culminating  point  of  Latin 
Christianity." 

Slowly,  gradually,  surely,  the  change  had  taken  place. 
The  time  had  long  gone  by  when  men  had  dreamed  of  a 
state  of  things  in  which  the  world  should  be  governed  by 
two  masters  acting  in  harmony,  the  Emperor  and  the 
Pope.  The  theory  of  Dante,  born  a  Guelf,  but  forced 
by  the  violence  of  the  papal  party  into  the  Ghibelline 
ranks,  was  a  beautiful  one,  but  it  could  not  be  worked. 
Even  when  the  faith  of  the  Church  was  the  religion  of 
the  Empire,  it  became  a  hopeless  task  to  reconcile  the 
claims  of  the  master  of  the  world  with  those  of  the  Vicar 
of  Christ.  That  the  Pope  should  hold  his  secular  pos- 
sessions of  the  Emperor  as  his  suzerain ;  that  the  Em- 
peror should  receive  his  authority  from  the  Head  of  the 
Church,  —  through  His  Vicar,  by  whom  he  was  anointed 
and  crowned,  —  all  this  might  seem  reasonable,  natural, 

1  The  Holy  Roman  Empire,  ch.  xvii.  This  work  can  hardly 
be  too  highly  recommended  to  the  student  of  mediaeval  his- 
tory. A  knowledge  of  its  subject  is  of  the  greatest  necessity 
for  such ;  and  it  is  difficult  to  mention  a  work  from  which  it 
could  more  easily  and  effectually  be  obtained. 

^  Latin  Christianity,  bk.  xiii.  ch.  xvii. 


M 


and  Nicholas 
"In  Frede- 
"the  Empire 
a  fitful  gleam 
•residing  over 
of  the  high- 
er afterwards 
'Pe,  anything 
t  the  reverse 
icholas  v.," 
'int  of  Latin 

aken  place, 
reamed  of  a 
fovemed  by 
or  and  the 
but  forced 
Ghibelline 
^e  worked, 
religion  of 
oncile  the 

the  Vicar 
cular  pos- 

the  Em- 
ad  of  the 

anointed 
,  natural, 

an  hardly 
asval   his- 

necessity 

which  it 


ITALY  IN  THE  FIFTEENTH  CENTURY. 


13 


simple  in  theory ;  but  innumerable  complications  arose 
in  working  it  out.  The  difficulty  of  serving  two  masters 
continually  presented  itself;  and  men  drifted  into  the 
party  of  the  Guelfs  or  into  that  of  the  Ghibellines,  not 
only  from  the  intelligible  reason  that  they  sided  with  the 
papal  party  on  the  one  hand,  or  with  the  Imperialists  on 
the  other,  but  from  multitudes  of  other  reasons,  arising 
out  of  local  position  and  family  or  national  history.  To 
us,  for  instance,  it  seems  strange  to  find  the  most  strenu- 
ous supporters  of  the  Papacy  among  the  strongest  re- 
publicans ;  but  our  surprise  vanishes  when  we  remem- 
ber that  the  aristocratic  party  was  headed  by  those  great 
nobles  who  derived  their  chief  authority  from  the  Em- 
peror, and  were  devoted  to  the  support  of  his  claims. 

It  would  be  out  of  place  to  sketch  here,  even  in  bar- 
est outline,  the  rise  of  the  papal  power,  and  therefore 
we  must  be  contented  merely  to  indicate  those  points 
which  will  render  our  narrative  intelligible.  The  power 
of  the  Roman  Bishop  had  grown  up  by  slow  degrees, 
and  had  derived  its  strength  from  a  variety  of  elements. 
It  would  be  a  mistake  to  fasten  upon  any  one  cause  as 
sufficient  to  account  for  the  almost  absolute  dominion 
which  the  Bishop  of  Rome  came  to  exercise  over  the 
Western  Church. 

It  was  not  only  his  position  in  the  metropolis  of  the 
world-empire, —  although  this  went  for  much,  —  it  was  not 
simply  the  early  fable  that  the  Pope  was  the  successor 
of  Saint  Peter,  that  gave  him  his  authority.  This  was  an 
effect  quite  as  much  as  a  cause  of  his  predominance. 
The  New  Testament  knows  nothing  of  Saint  Peter  as 
the  founder  of  the  Church  of  Rome.  When  he  is  men- 
tioned in  this  connection  by  Irenaeus,  it  is  only  as  asso- 
ciated on  equal  terms  with  Saint  Paul. 


i  i'/ 


l!: 


if 


SAVONAROLA, 


adorned  that  cha,>  i„  theVL, ?"'  "' ^""''^^  *ho 
"'lengthen  the  influence  and^H      "'  ^""Wbuted  ,o 
;f  emed  naturally  ,o  be  Llt^  Zn"',  '"'  P°"^'  "Wch 
Cjty,  and  to  engender  theUV  if  11,    "  °'  '"^  ^'o''''^' 
Church.'    Perhaps  it  must  t   tl"  **'  *«  Mo'her 
'^al  ecclesiastical'ptr^ '\f ''^'^  "'^'  "•  ^'™"g  cen- 
»ges  through  which  the  Chlh  h"!   "  "^""'"y  '»  'he 
'•^-'ine  to  Charles  the  Great   ^H  ?  "'^^  '"™  ^on- 
•hose  of  another  Charles  wt  ^'■°"'  '"^  ''^X'  'o 

°^  'he  great  and  widZeld  r"  ",""'  '"^  ''^S'""-g 
P^-r^-     We  have  saW  ^  '^™'' ^^^ '  "'^  P^-P^' 
Although  they  did  undoubtll*^  '''''  ^^^etals. 
papal  theory  in  its  days  of  l!l  ^   '""^  '"PP°«  '«  'he 
;'  ™«t  yet  be  confessed  tha'lhr  ""'  ''^-'"P'^ent, 

AJr.  Freeman  remarks:  "From  ^i,.  *• 
wards,  the  divisions  of  the  Em^r^  and  T  °'  ''°"^*^"*^"^  °- 
the  Emperors  from  Rome  had  greatlv  W        "?"''""*  "^^^"'^^  ^^ 
Popes.    They  had  not,  like  the  S"    ?'''^  '^'  P^^^^"  oi  the 
superior  always  at  ha;d.     Charlfs  t^  r    °'  ^^^^-n^-ople,  a 
the  imperial  power  over  the   Chlch     r' ''' '""^  ^^^'^^^^ 
broke  up.  the  power  of  the  Popes  "ew        '  "''''  ^'^  ^'"P-e 
on'y  by  their  own  wickedness  and  th      T'"'     ^'  ^^«  <^hecked 
-Ives,  which  kings  like  Ot 2  thf c'e"  ffT  ^'"^"^  ^^- 
had  to  step  in  and  put  an  end  to  "  !r  """""y  ^'^^  Third 

pean  History,  ix.  2),  *°     ^^^"^'"al  Sketch  of  Euro- 

Cement's  Epistles, p*  "/ft   '^f  """^  '<>  "-  edition  of  Satoe 
Claims  (London  and  Ne^  y%°"  '"=  general  subject,  cf.  Papi 


ITALY  IN  THE  FIFTEENTH  CENTURY. 


15 


The  piety,  or- 

f  Pontiffs  who 
ontributed  to 
power  which 
f  the  Mother 
5  the  Mother 
I  strong  cen- 
essity  in  the 
3  from  Con- 
his  days  to 
e  beginning 
the  papal 
s  decretals. 
»ort  to  the 
velopment, 
nts  of  that 
5se  famous 


tantine  on- 
absence  of 
wer  of  the 
ntinople,  a 
y  asserted 
Empire 
checked 
>ng  them- 
he  Third 
of  Euro 

tri  kingly 
of  Saint 
f.  Papal 


dated  with  the  spiritual  power  of  the  Papacy  would 
have  led  to  their  being  averted,  we  cannot  tell.  Hu- 
manly speaking,  it  is  difficult  to  imagine,  as  we  trace 
the  course  of  history,  that  the  Popedom  could  have 
been  very  different  from  what  it  was.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  it  seems  inevitable  that  it  should  have  become  a 
secular  power,  and  equally  so  that  its  spiritual  charac- 
ter, the  world  being  what  it  is,  should  have  suffered  from 
the  connection. 

The  deterioration  is,  in  fact,  undeniable.  As  we  foU 
low  the  solemn  and  impressive  history  from  Pontiff  to 
Pontiff,  from  age  to  age,  we  become  aware  that  the 
voice  of  the  Vicar  of  Christ  no  longer  speaks  in  the  pure 
tones  of  a  Leo  or  a  Gregorys  the  world  also  has  its 
prophet  on  the  throne  of  Peter,  and  the  spirit  of  the 
world  is  blended,  in  a  combination  sometimes  blasphe- 
mous, sometimes  touching  upon  the  ludicrous,  with  the 
higher  spirit  of  the  kingdom.  The  first  Bishop  of  Chris- 
tendom is  serving  two  masters. 

The  moral  deterioration  of  the  Roman  See  is  a  simple 
fact  of  history.  It  was  not  rapid,  and  there  were  breaks 
and  suspensions  and  recoils  in  its  course ;  but  it  was,  on 
the  whole,  gradual  and  certain.  We  mark  it,  perhaps, 
most  in  the  period  which  elapsed  between  the  beginning 
of  the  fourteenth  century  and  the  era  of  the  Reforma- 
tion. The  evil,  however,  was  at  work  long  before  this 
time.  In  the  struggles  between  the  great  Popes,  like 
Gregory  VII.  (Hildebrand),  and  the  great  Emperors, 
like  Henry  IV.,  there  was  of  necessity  a  secularizing  of 
the  spirit  of  the  ecclesiastical  power,  far  more  than  a  spir- 
itualizing of  the  secular ;  and  the  Popes  were  quite  as 
much  the  victims  as  they  were  the  causes  of  the  circum- 
stances in  which  they  found  themselves. 


t$ 


SAVONAROLA. 


John  of  Salisbury,  almost  exactly  a  century  later  than 
Gregory  VII.,  —  he  died  in  1180,  —  tells  us  that  when 
asked  by  his  friend  Hadrian  IV.  what  people  said  of 
him  and  of  the  Roman  Church,  he  replied :  — 


'♦  Many  people  say  that  the  Roman  Church,  which  is  the 
mother  of  all  other  Churches,  shows  herself  to  other 
Churches,  not  as  a  mother,  but  as  a  stepmother.  ♦  Scribes 
and  Pharisees  sit  upon  her  seat,  who  bind  heavy  burdens^ 
and  grievous  to  be  borne,  and  lay  them  on  men's  shoul- 
ders ;  but  they  themselves  will  not  move  them  with  one 
of  their  fingers.*  They  lord  it  over  God's  heritage,  and 
do  not  walk  in  the  way  of  life,  as  ensamples  to  the  flock. 
They  heap  up  precious  things,  and  load  their  tables  with 
gold  and  silver.  .  .  .  With  them  godliness  is  practised  for 
the  sake  of  gain,  not  for  the  dissemination  of  the  truth. 
.  .  .  To  many  even  the  Roman  Bishop  has  become  un- 
bearable ;  and  people  complain  that  while  the  churches 
which  were  built  by  the  devotion  of  our  fathers  are  fall- 
ing to  ruin,  and  while  the  altars  are  deserted,  he  is  going 
about  in  purple  and  gold.  The  palaces  of  the  priests  are 
resplendent,  while  the  Church  of  Christ  is  left  polluted 
and  uncared  for.  .  .  .  In  my  judgment,"  he  added,  "so 
long  as  they  go  this  way,  the  scourge  of  the  Lord  will 
never  depart  from  them." 

This  was  towards  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century ;  but 
about  a  century  later  began  a  period  which  tended  still 
further  to  destroy  the  better  features  of  the  papal  power. 
This  was  the  famous  Babylonish  Captivity, —  the  residence 
of  the  Popes  for  a  period  of  seventy  years  (1305-1376) 
at  Avignon  in  France.  One  of  its  evil  results  was  seen 
in  the  schism  which  immediately  followed,  and  lasted  for 
about  half  the  time  of  the  Captivity,  —  until  the  Council 
of  Constance,  when  Martin  V.  was  raised  to  the  papal 


-)i 


ITALY  IN  THE  FIFTEENTH  CENTURY. 


17 


thron5  in  141 7,  and  was  finally  accepted  by  the  whole 
Western  Church. 

When  Milman  speaks  of  the  Pontificate  of  Nicholas  V. 
as  "  the  culminating  point  of  Latin  Christianity,"  he  does 
not  ignore  the  facts  and  circumstances  which  had  long 
been  at  work  to  undermine  the  monarchy  of  Hildebrand. 
"The  papal  power,"  he  says,  "had  long  reached  its  ze- 
nith. From  Innocent  III.  (1198-12 16)  to  Boniface  VIII. 
(i 294-1303)  it  had  begun  its  decline."  That  is  to  say, 
from  near  the  time  of  John  of  Salisbury  to  the  beginning 
of  the  period  of  the  papal  residence  at  Avignon,  the 
power  of  the  Pope  relatively  to  that  of  the  secular  rulers 
began  to  decline ;  and  the  Captivity  and  the  schism  al- 
most annihilated  any  real  authority  that  still  remained  in 
his  hands.  But  the  Pope  as  the  representative  of  the 
Church  —  perhaps,  rather,  the  Church  presided  over  by 
the  Pope  —  was  supreme  in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth 
century.  It  had  burned  Huss  and  Jerome  of  Prague, 
and  it  seemed  at  peace  and  irresistible.  This  was  the 
appearance  of  things  as  it  would  strike  the  eye  of  a 
statesman.  But  there  were  unseen  forces  at  work  which 
we,  at  least,  cannot  overlook.  An  age  which  endured 
a  Papacy  in  virtual  subjection  to  the  French  Crown  for 
the  best  part  of  a  centuiy,  another  which  could  tolerate 
the  worse  scandal  of  rival  Popes  for  more  than  a  whole 
generation,  must  have  fallen  from  the  faith,  as  well  as 
the  order,  of  earlier  times. 


"  The  transfer  of  the  papal  throne  from  Rome  to  Avignon 
for  a  space  of  seventy  years,  during  the  early  part  of  the 
fourteenth  century,  entailed  enormous  evils  on  Europe,  and 
on  the  estates  of  the  Church  in  particular.  It  was  a  delib- 
erate renunciation  by  the  Popes  of  their  most  sacred  duties 
as  Bishops  of  Rome  and  as  temporal  sovereigns.     While 


It 


SAVONAROLA. 


they  passed  their  days  in  epicurean  ease  and  luxury  on  the 
banks  of  the  Rhone,  the  patrimony  of  the  Church  was  trod- 
den down  by  lawless  barons  and  contending  factions,  and, 
as  was  natural  in  such  a  state  of  things,  the  people,  both 
clerical  and  lay,  equally  despised  the  laws  of  God  and  of 
man.  Venality,  impurity,  and  licentiousness  pervaded  the 
papal  court,  and  had  reached  such  a  pitch  at  the  time  that 
Petrarch  was  a  resident  at  or  near  Avignon  that  he  points 
to  the  Romish  court  there,  in  his  epistles  sine  titulo  and  in 
three  of  his  sonnets,  as  the  Western  Babylon,  a  sink  of 
iniquity,  a  very  hell  upon  earth."  * 

It  would  be  absurd  to  charge  the  Popes  with  the 
whole  guilt  of  the  corruption  of  the  fifteenth  century. 
If  they  were  in  part  the  causes,  they  were  also  in  part 
only  the  indications,  of  a  state  of  things  against  which 
some  of  them  struggled  hard,  but  which  for  the  most 
part,  they  were  powerless  to  amend.  It  is  by  no  means 
true  that  the  F  >pes  of  this  time  were  all  bad  men ;  but 
unfortunately  some  of  the  best  seemed  the  least  fitted 
for  the  evil  times  on  which  they  had  fallen.    Nicholas  V.,* 


^  Harford's  Life  of  Michael  Angelo,  vol.  i.  ch.  viii.  pt.  !., 
where  the  references  will  be  found. 

2  In  Nicholas  V.,  in  three  short  years,  the  Pope  had  become 
again  a  great  Italian  potentate.  .  .  .  Nicholas  V.  laid  the  founda- 
tion of  his  power  not  so  much  in  the  strength  of  the  Roman  See 
as  a  temporal  sovereignty  as  in  the  admiration  and  gratitude  of 
Italy,  which  was  rapidly  reported  over  the  whole  of  Christendom. 
.  .  .  The  famous  architect  Leo  Alberti  describes  the  unexampled 
prosperity  under  Nicholas,  for  which  the  conspirators  would  have 
made  that  cruel  return.  "  The  whole  of  Latium  was  at  peace. .  .  . 
The  domain  of  the  Church  was  in  a  high  state  of  cultivation  ;  the 
city  had  become  a  city  of  gold  through  the  jubilee;  the  dignity  of 
the  citizens  was  respected;  all  reasonable  petitions  were  granted 
at  once  by  the  Pontiff."  —  Milman  :  Latin  Christianity  (2d  ed. ), 
vi.  169. 


ITALY  IN  THE  FIFTEENTH  CENTURY. 


19 


n»  a  sink  of 


one  of  the  best  of  Popes,  had  his  soul  saddened,  his 
heart  almost  broken,  by  rebellion  breaking  out  among 
his  ungrateful  Roman  subjects. 

To  him  succeeded  Pius  II.  (i 458-1 464),  the  fa- 
mous iEneas  Sylvius,  who,  although  he  was  not  a  man 
of  the  same  depth  and  spirituality  as  his  predecessor, 
would  yet,  by  the  elevation  of  his  mind,  the  purity  of 
his  character,  and  the  splendor  of  his  abilities,  have  shed 
lustre  upon  any  throne.  If  it  was  the  age  of  silver  suc- 
ceeding the  age  of  gold,  it  .vas  succeeded  by  one  far 
baser  than  itself.  Paul  II.  (i 464-1 471),  the  successor 
of  Pius,  was  the  sister's  son  of  Eugenius  IV.,  who  reigned 
during  the  sixteen  troubled  years  which  intervened  be- 
tween Martin  V.  and  Nicholas  V.  If  his  character  as 
Pope  had  resembled  that  of  his  earlier  years,  he  might 
have  left  behind  him  the  reputation  of  his  uncle ;  but 
the  arrogance  of  his  pretensions,  his  love  of  display, 
hu  unscrupulousness  in  accumulating  money,  and  his 
disregard  for  his  word,  or  even  his  oath,  have  deeply 
stained  his  name.  "  You  venture  to  appeal  to  judges," 
he  cried,  with  a  glare  ^  at  Platina.  "  As  if  you  did  not 
know  that  all  laws  are  lodged  in  our  breast  1  The 
sentence  is  given.  I  am  Pope,  and  I  have  power  to 
rescind  or  to  approve,  at  my  pleasure,  the  acts  of  all 
other  men." 

It  has  been  truly  said  that,  at  this  time,  every  other 
precious  thing  was  as  cheap  at  Rome  as  the  Pope's 
oath.  But  the  course  was  still  downwards :  Paul  II. 
was  succeeded  by  Sixtus  IV.  (1471-1484).  In  his  reign 
simony  was  open  and  undisguised ;  no  benefice  was 
given  away  without  being  paid  for.  The  unscrupulous- 
ness of  his  conduct  towards  his  opponents  we  shall  have 
1  Torvis  Oculis.    Cf.  Bower,  Popes,  A.  d  1465. 


20 


SAVONAROLA, 


\ 


to  notice  when  we  come  to  speak  of  his  quarrel  with  the 
Medici.  Murder  he  held  in  certain  cases  to  be  justifi- 
able ;  and  his  general  character  may  be  judged  from  the 
generally  believed  report  that  his  death  was  brought  on 
by  chagrin  at  a  peace  being  concluded,  without  his 
sanction,  between  the  Venetians  and  certain  allied  pow- 
ers who  were  at  war  with  them.  Of  darker  charges 
against  him,  made  and  believed,  we  say  nothing.  The 
chief  excuse  alleged  for  his  crimes  consists  in  the  plea 
that  they  all  proceeded  from  an  immoderate  affection 
for  his  relations,  and  his  desire  to  promote  and  enrich 
them. 

Innocent  VIII.  (1484-1493),  if  not  as  bad  a  man,  was 
possibly  a  worse  Pope  than  Sixtus  had  been.  When  the 
latter  died,  a  contemporary  wrote  :  "  On  this  most  happy 
day  God  Almighty  showed  His  power  upon  earth,  and 
delivered  His  people  out  of  the  hand  of  this  most  im- 
pious and  iniquitous  sovereign,  in  whom  dwelt  no  fear 
of  God,  no  love  for  the  flock  of  Christ,  but  shameful 
lust,  avarice,  and  vain-glory.'*  But  it  was  worse  in  the 
days  of  his  successor.  Murders  were  frequent,  and  were 
seldom  punished  when  their  authors  were  protected  by 
the  princes  of  the  Church.  A  man  who  had  murdered 
his  own  two  daughters  was  set  at  liberty  on  the  morning 
of  the  day  appointed  for  his  execution,  because  he  had 
paid  eight  hundred  ducats.  And  the  papal  Vice-Cham- 
berlain, when  asked  why  such  criminals  escaped,  gave 
with  bitter  irony  the  reply  :  "  God  willeth  not  the  death 
of  a  sinner,  but  that  he  shall  pay  and  live ;  and  so  we 
think  in  Bologna."  *  One  incident  of  this  Pope's  reign 
may  suffice  to  show  its  character.     We  suppress  the 

1  No  mere  story.  Steph.  Infessura  declares  that  he  was  pre- 
sent when  it  was  said  (Diar.,  p.  1988,  in  Rudelbach). 


ITALY  IN   THE  FIFTEENTH  CENTURY. 


21 


most  offensive  portion  of  the  Pope's  words  in  reference 
to  it. 

The  Pope's  vicar  for  the  city  of  Rome  on  one  occa- 
sion issued  an  edict  forbidding  concubinage,  and  threat- 
ening the  laity  who  were  guilty  of  il  with  excommunica- 
tion, and  the  clergy  with  suspension  and  loss  of  their 
benefices.  Innocent  had  the  vicar  summoned  before 
him,  and  gave  orders  that  the  edict  should  be  withdrawn, 
as  concubinage,  or  something  worse,  was  universal.  It 
should  be  added,  however,  that  he  did,  although  appar- 
ently with  reluctance,  consent  to  the  renewal  of  a  con- 
stitution of  Pius  II.  forbidding  priests  to  keep  taverns, 
play-houses,  and  houses  of  ill-fame,  or  to  act  as  the 
secret  agents  of  prostitutes.  This  Pope,  let  it  be  re- 
membered, was  the  friend  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici ;  and 
one  of  his  natural  sons  married  Lorenzo's  daughter  Mad- 
dalena.  It  was  he  who,  on  account  of  this  family  con- 
nection, conferred  the  cardinal's  hat  on  Giovanni,  the 
brother  of  Maddalena,  afterwards  Leo  X.,  when  he  was 
only  thirteen  years  of  age. 

This  brings  us  to  the  reign  of  Alexander  VI.  (1493- 
1503) .  It  was  under  this  Pope  —  one  of  the  worst,  per- 
haps the  very  worst,  that  ever  brought  dishonor  upon 
the  loftiest  seat  in  Christendom  —  that  Savonarola  was 
put  to  death. 

The  hasty  sketch  which  has  been  given  of  the  occu- 
pants of  the  Roman  See  during  these  years  —  nearly 
half  a  century  —  will  prepare  our  readers  to  understand 
something  of  the  times  to  which  our  narrative  belongs. 
We  turn  from  the  Popes  to  the  monks,  —  in  other  words, 
to  the  special  representatives  of  the  inward  and  religious 
life  of  the  Church. 

There  was  a  time  when,  however  it  might  be  in  the 


f 


i- 


99 


SAVONAROLA. 


world,  there  was  purity  and  devotion  in  the  cloister. 
Without  arguing  the  question  whether  those  who  fied 
from  the  world  to  the  convent  did  not  carry  the  world 
with  them  into  their  retreat,  —  or  the  other  question, 
whether  the  monastic  life  was  more  a  means  of  deepen- 
ing or  of  narrowing  the  spiritual  life  of  men, — there 
can  be  no  question  that  we  are  indebted  to  the  religious 
orders  for  splendid  examples  of  learning,  of  piety,  of 
intellectual  power  and  influence. 

But  it  is  equally  undeniable  that,  like  other  human 
institutions,  these  were  liable  to  corruption  and  decay. 
We  see  recurring  evidences  of  their  degeneracy  in  the 
rise  of  reformed  communities, — like  that  of  Clairvaux 
breaking  off  from  Clugny,  for  exampie.  The  most 
remarkable  attempt  to  deliver  monasticism  from  its  ten- 
dency to  luxury  and  self-indulgence,  from  its  forgetful- 
ness  of  the  vow  of  poverty,  was  the  almost  contempora- 
neous rise  of  the  two  great  mendicant  orders  of  the 
Dominicans,  or  Preaching  Brothers,  and  the  Francis- 
cans, or  Lesser  Brothers.  Of  the  vast  achievements  of 
these  two  great  orders  there  could  be  no  question,  even 
if  we  had  only  the  name  of  Aquinas  as  a  son  of  the 
former,  and  that  of  Bonaventura  as  belonging  to  the 
latter.  Yet  these  also  fell  into  such  decay  that  their 
reformation  seemed  almost  hopeless ;  as  we  shall  have 
occasion  to  remark  in  the  course  of  this  history. 

On  this  subject  one  witness  may  be  adduced,  and  one 
shall  suffice,  —  Nicolas  de  Cl^mangis.^  He  was  born  in 
the  latter  half  of  the  fourteenth  century,  and  survived 
the  period  of  the  Council  of  Basel,  dying  about  1434. 
He  was  rector  of  the  University  of  France,  and  together 

1  Cf.  Wetzer  and  Welte,  Kirchenlexicon,  j.  v.,  and  Rudel- 
bach. 


ITALY  IN  THE  FIFTEENTH  CENTURY. 


aj 


with  his  master,  Pierre  d'Ailly,  and  Gerson,  formed  the 
triumvirate  of  Catholic  reformers  who  were  the  glory  of 
France  at  the  beginning  of  the  fifteenth  century.  The 
sad  condition  of  the  Church  was  the  subject  of  various 
appeals  which  he  addressed  to  the  king  of  France, 
Charles  VII.,  and  to  the  Anti-pope,  Clement  VII.;  but 
his  principal  work  was  his  treatise  on  the  corrupt  condi- 
tion or  ruin  of  the  Church.*  In  this  treatise  he  has  the 
following  remarks :  — 

"As  for  the  monks,  what  can  we  say  in  commendation  of 
those  who,  according  to  their  vows,  ought  to  be  the  most 
perfect  of  all  the  sons  of  the  Church,  since  they  are  re- 
moved from  anxiety  about  the  things  of  the  world,  and  are 
thus  able  to  devote  themselves  to  the  contemplation  of 
heavenly  things,  but  who  are  plainly  the  reverse  of  all 
this  ?  For  they  are,  in  fact,  the  most  covetous  and  avari- 
cious of  all,  and  are  mere  slaves  of  me  world,  instead  of 
fleeing  from  it.  Nothing  is  so  hateful  to  them  as  their 
cell  and  their  convent,  reading  and  praying,  their  rule  and 
religion.  Monks  they  are  externally  in  their  dress,  but  in 
their  life  and  works  they  are  as  far  as  possible  removed 
from  perfection.  And  this  is  the  righteous  punishment 
which  they  suffer,  that  they  do  not  find  what  they  seek  ;  for 
the  revenues  of  the  convents  dwindle  away  more  and  more 
from  their  insatiable  pursuit  of  earthly  goods  ;  so  that 
where  formerly  a  hundred  could  live  conveniently,  now 
hardly  ten  can  exist  with  the  greatest  care  ;  and  they 
are  scarce  able  to  keep  their  buildings  in  a  habitable 
condition. 

"  And  what  shall  I  say  of  the  mendicant  friars,  who  by 
their  vow  are  devoted  to  the  most  absolute  poverty,  and 
glory  in  being  the  true  disciples  and  followers  of  Christ, 
and  boast  that  they  alone  can  give  to  the  people  the  true 
food  of  the  soul,  and  show  them  the  way  of  eternal  life ; 

^  De  Corrupto  Ecclesis  Statu,  s.  de  Ruina  Ecclesiae. 


24 


.  ^  V- .':;  \   SAVONAROLA, 


\\  fi' 


\, 


Hi 


that  they  alone  fulfil  the  obligations  of  the  true  servants  of 
God,  and  by  their  zeal  make  amends  for  the  neglect,  igno- 
rance, and  omissions  of  others  who  are  lukewarm  and 
asleep  ?  In  truth,  if  they  had  attained  to  such  a  degree  of 
perfection,  they  certainly  would  not  thus  exalt  themselves, 
and  despise  all  others  in  comparison  with  themselves.  For 
it  is  the  true  perfection  of  the  righteous  that  they  never  re- 
gard themselves  as  perfect,  but  ever  increase  in  humility 
as  they  grow  in  grace.  By  the  contrary  course  the  good 
which  they  really  have  is  corrupted  and  destroyed.  Just 
as  the  synagogue  had  its  Pharisees,  against  whom  Christ 
spoke  most  strongly  in  the  Gospel,  so  are  these  new  apos- 
tles to  be  regarded  as  the  Pharisees  of  the  Church,  to 
whom  is  applicable  all  that  Christ  said  of  the  Pharisees,  or 
even  much  worse.  For  they  are  like  ravening  wolves  in 
sheep's  clothing,  who  have  the  outward  appearance  of  holi- 
ness, but  inwardly  are  defiled  with  all  lusts  ;  who,  like  the 
priests  of  Bel,  consume  that  which  is  offered  to  God  in 
their  secret  chambers,  revelling  with  their  wives  and  chil- 
dren,—  preaching,  indeed,  what  people  ought  to  do,  but 
not  doing  it  themselves,  and  thus  through  their  own  preach- 
ing becoming  reprobate  ;  clothing  themselves  like  an  angel 
of  light,  and  in  that  garb  serving  not  Satan,  indeed,  and 
yet  not  Christ  either,  but  their  own  bellies  ;  alluring  the 
hearts  of  the  innocent  by  their  sedu'  tjve  words. 

"  And  what  shall  we  say  of  the  nuns,  if  we  would  avoid 
the  appearance  of  describing,  not  virgins  consecrated  to 
God,  but  brothels  and  deeds  of  shame  .^  In  truth,  the 
nuns'  convents  are  in  these  days  nothing  else  than  public 
houses  of  unchastity,  places  for  receiving  immoral  and 
licentious  young  men,  so  that  to  let  a  maiden  enter  a 
convent  is  very  much  the  same  as  offering  hec  for  open 
prostitution." 

There  is  no  reason  for  doubting  the  general  truth  of 
this  testimony,  and  the  condition  of  the  Papacy  at  the 
time  sufficiently  prepares  us  to  believe  it.     But  if  these 


m 


■^rsm^T"^'"'-: 


ITALY  IN  THE  FIFTEENTH  CENTURY. 


25 


were  the  shepherds,  what  must  have  been  the  character 
of  the  flock?  Doubtless  God  had,  then  as  always,  many 
secret  ones  who  served  Him  faithfully  and  devoutly,  and 
of  these  it  was  the  delight  of  Savonarola  to  speak ; 
but  as  regards  the  Church  at  large,  the  times  were 
evil,  and  nothing  but  revolution  or  root-and-branch 
reformation  could  save  the  Christian  communion  from 
dissolution. 

The  moral  tone  of  Christendom  at  least  had  never 
been  lower.  The  most  brutal  selfishness  striked  shame- 
lessly abroad.  Despotism,  oppression,  cruelty,  were 
practised  all  but  universally  by  the  rulers  of  the  people. 
Murder  had  become  a  trade,  and  poisoning  an  art ;  and 
both  became  part  of  the  policy  of  princes.  "  In  Italy," 
said  Pontanus,  "  there  is  nothing  cheaper  than  human 
life."  The  Church  was  worst  of  all.  "  Through  the  exam- 
ple of  the  papal  court,"  said  Machiavelli,  "  Italy  has  lost 
all  piety  and  religion.  We  have  to  thank  the  Church 
and  the  priests  for  our  abandoned  wickedness."  ^ 

In  considering  the  work  of  Savonarola,  and  the  vari- 
ous reforming  tendencies  which  were  in  operation  in  his 
times,  there  is  another  class  of  influences  which  must 
not  be  overlooked.  Leaving  out  of  consideration  for 
the  moment  the  spirit  of  mysticism,  which  had  awak- 
ened in  Germany  and  was  extending  itself  widely  and 
fostering  a  more  inward  and  spiritual  life,  there  was  the 
spread  of  learning  through  the  universities,  the  invention 
of  printing,  and  that  great  classical  movement  which  is 
known  as  the  Renaissance. 

The  organization  of  the  higher  instruction  of  the  na- 
tions in  universities  was  preparing  also  for  the  great 
revival  of  learning  which  was  to  work  a  revolution,  not 

^  Discorsi,  i.  12. 


m 


SAVONAROLA. 


I  i' 


only  in  the  opinions  of  men,  but  in  their  very  modes  of 
thought,  of  reasoning,  and  of  investigation.  Paris  and 
Oxford  arose  in  the  thirteenth  century,  Koln  and  Prague 
in  the  fourteenth  ;  and  these  not  only  produced  contro- 
versialists who  called  in  question  the  absolute  authority 
claimed  for  himself  by  the  Roman  Bishop,  but  earnest 
reformers  who  had  no  thought  of  creating  a  schism  in 
the  Church,  but  urgently  demanded  her  purification.  If 
Paris  had  the  great  names  which  have  just  been  men- 
tioned, England  is  not  likely  to  forget  that  Oxford  had 
her  Wickliffe,  or  even  that  Prague  had  her  Huss. 

With  respect  to  the  great  literary  movement  known  as 
the  Renaissance,  so  full  of  light  and  of  darkness,  of  lib- 
erty and  of  bondage,  the  subject  is  not  merely  of  great 
extent,  but  involves  so  many  points  of  controversy  that 
we  must  keep  simply  on  its  outskirts ;  yet  certain  facts 
may  be  noted  with  regard  to  which  there  is  at  least  a 
substantial  agreement. 

The  Renaissance,  so  often  connected  with  the  capture 
of  Constantinople  by  the  Turks  in  1453,  was  not  simply 
the  result  of  an  event  which  led  to  the  emigration  of  a 
large  number  of  Greeks  to  Italy.  No  doubt  it  received 
its  most  powerful  and  most  visible  impulse  from  mis 
occurrence  ;  but  it  was  in  full  progress  before.  The  lit- 
erary movement  in  question  "  is  anterior  by  more  than  a 
century  to  the  great  event  which  is  assigned  as  its  date. 
It  is  impossible  to  deny  that  there  was  a  strong  taste  for 
antiquity  during  the  period  of  the  sojourn  of  the  Popes 
at  Avignon.  Cola  di  Rienzi  was  a  distinguished  human- 
ist before  becoming  a  celebrated  revolutionary."  ^  It 
would  be  easy  to  add  other  names  in  whom  the  same 
tendency  is  conspicuous. 

1  Christophe,  La  Papaute  pendant  le  quinzi^me  Sifecle,  i.  431. 


\       ■ 

M  -  1 ' 


ITALY  IN  THE  FIFTEENTH  CENTURY. 


27 


In  regard  to  the  inward  character  of  the  movement, 
it  was  essentially  humanistic  or  naturalistic,  and  in  so  far 
it  was  a  revolt,  not  only  against  Catholicism,  but  against 
Christianity.  It  was  virtually  a  return  to  Greek  Pagan- 
ism. It  knew  nothing  of  grace ;  it  was  the  mere  wor- 
ship of  nature.  A  Protestant,  looking  back  upon  those 
days  from  his  own  present  point  of  view,  is  apt  to  imagine 
that  it  was  essentially  a  protest  against  the  corruptions 
and  tyranny  of  the  times,  especially  as  that  tyranny  was 
embodied  in  the  Roman  See.  No  doubt  it  was,  in  a 
measure,  such  a  protest ;  but  for  the  most  part  accident- 
ally. We  may  even  say  that  it  was  become  a  necessity 
for  the  age  in  which  it  arose,  and  at  least  a  means  In  the 
hand  of  Divine  Providence  for  bringing  about  certain 
sorely  needed  changes  in  the  Church  and  the  world. 
All  this  may  fairly  be  allowed. 

To  attribute  such  high  principles  and  purposes  to  the 
movement  itself,  however,  would  be  palpably  absurd. 
It  had  no  genuine  sympathy  —  to  take  one  example  — 
with  rational  liberty  as  being  the  right  of  all  men,  and  a 
benefit  to  humanity  at  large.  No  doubt  it  despised 
monkery,  asceticism,  and  restrictions  of  all  kinds.  But 
the  liberty  which  it  preached  was  the  liberty  of  educa- 
tion, philosophy,  refinement,  culture.  No  Horace  could 
have  more  hated  and  despised  the  profane  mob.  The 
Renaissance  would  never  have  emancipated  the  serf, 
or  struck  the  fetters  from  the  hands  and  feet  of  the 
slave. 

In  short,  it  was  heathen,  and  not  Christian,  and  so  it 
had  no  conception  of  the  lofty  charity  of  the  Gospel, 
even  as  it  was  destitute  of  its  spiritual  power.  This 
judgment  is  not  a  mere  theoretical  opinion  deduced 
from  the  nature  of  the  case,  it  is  amply  confirmed  by 


I 


88 


SAVONAROLA. 


Ill 


,*■■ 


r/' 


\i   i 


f 


the  facts  of  history.  The  Renaissance  had  no  more  sym- 
pathy with  the  self-denial  of  Christ  than  it  had  with  the 
absurdities  of  mediaeval  self-torture.  It  had  no  more 
sympathy  with  downtrodden  humanity  than  it  had  with 
ecclesiastical  'espotism. 

To  a  certain  extent  it  was  a  power  working  in  favor 
of  reform.  Perhaps  its  best  fruits  may  be  seen  in  men 
like  Erasmus.  But  it  had  no  real  depth  of  earnest- 
ness. When  the  necessity  for  sacrifice  arose,  then 
came  the  evidence  that  it  was  not  of  Christ  It  could 
criticise,  gibe,  sneer,  even  denounce ;  but  it  could 
not  suffer.  At  bottom  it  was  much  more  in  sympathy 
with  a  cultivated  tyrant  than  with  his  uncultivated 
victims. 

**  That  spirit,"  says  Dr.  Bryce,i  "  whether  we  call  it  ana- 
lytical, or  sceptical,  or  earthly,  or  simply  secular,  for  it  is 
more  or  less  all  of  these,  —  the  spirit  which  was  the  exact 
antithesis  of  mediaeval  mysticism,  —  had  swept  in  and  car- 
ried men  away  with  all  the  force  of  a  pent-up  torrent. 
People  were  content  to  gratify  their  tastes  and  their  senses, 
caring  little  for  worship  and  still  less  for  doctrine ;  their 
hopes  and  ideas  were  no  longer  such  as  had  made  their 
forefathers  crusaders  or  ascetics ;  their  imagination  was 
possessed  by  associations  far  different  from  those  which 
had  inspired  Dante ;  they  did  not  revolt  against  the  Church, 
but  they  had  no  enthusiasm  for  her,  and  they  had  enthusi- 
asm for  whatever  was  fresh  and  graceful  and  intelligible." 

It  might  seem  strange,  but  to  a  deeper  view  of  human 
nature  it  will  seem  not  unreasonable,  that  along  with 
the  sceptical  indifference  to  Divine  revelation  and 
Christian  truth  begotten  by  this  movement  there  came 
a  growing  belief  in  astrology  and  cognate  superstitions. 

1  Holy  Roman  Empire,  ch.  xvii. 


ITALY  IN  THE  FIFTEENTH  CENTURY, 


29 


Popes  who  did  not  believe  in  God  believed  in  the  in- 
fluences of  the  stars  and  in  the  power  of  magic  ;  just  as 
unbelievers  in  our  own  day  have  attained  to  a  faith  in 
table-turning  and  "  spiritualism."  Even  at  the  univer- 
sities they  taught  astrology  as  a  science.  Paul  II.  de- 
clared that  the  astrologers  had  predicted  that  he  should 
become  first  cardinal,  and  then  Pope ;  and  the  same 
destiny  was  assigned  to  Giovanni  de'  Medici,  afterwards 
Leo  X.,  by  Marsilio  Ficino,  who  cast  his  horoscope  at 
his  birth.  Later  on,  it  is  asserted,  Paul  III.  never 
held  a  consistory  without  first  ascertaining  from  the 
astrologers  what  hour  would  be  favorable  for  the 
purpose. 

The  characteristics  of  this  movement,  as  here  indi- 
cated, will  receive  illustration  from  the  history  of 
Savonarola.  The  Renaissance  at  first  helped  him.  It 
was  high-toned,  liberal,  educated,  and  therefore  it 
would  give  a  hearing  to  this  new  prodigy.  Nay,  it  took 
in  hand  to  patronize  him.  Savonarola  knew,  by  a 
spiritual  instinct,  how  alien  its  spirit  was  from  his,  and 
kept  aloof.  Some  of  its  better  representatives,  like  the 
elder  Pico  della  Mirandola  and  Angelo  Poliziano,  came 
under  his  influence  and  died  his  disciples ;  the  move- 
ment itself  was  apart  from  his  work,  was  ultimately 
opposed  to  it,  and  became  his  persecutor.^ 

1  On  the  general  subject  of  this  chapter,  besides  Gibbon, 
Milman,  and  other  standard  authorities,  of.  Gebhart's  Essais : 
De  ritalie  (Paris:  Hachette) ;  Historisches  Taschenbuch  for 
1875. 


HiHBSH 


•     ll 


30 


SAVONAROLA, 


W  lll> 


CHAPTER  II. 


SAVONAROLA'S   BIRTH  AND   EARLY   YEARS. 


In. 

li-.  ■■ 


^h 


M 


il 


GiROLAMO  Savonarola  was  bom  at  Ferrara  on  St.  Mat- 
thew's day,  Sept.  21,  1452.  His  grandfather,  a  native 
of  Padua  and  the  meraber  of  a  noble  family  belonging 
to  that  city/  had  been  invited  to  Ferrara  by  Niccol6 
d'  Este.**  The  house  of  Este,  hardly  less  distinguished 
than  that  of  the  Medici  for  its  patronage  of  literature, 
art,  and  science,  gloried  in  attracting  to  the  city  which 
it  ruled,  the  most  distinguished  men  of  the  day.  Michele 
Savonarola,  equally  renowned  as  a  man  of  letters  and  a 
physician,  removed  to  Ferrara  in  the  beginning  of  the 
fifteenth  century,  and  had  two  sons,  Giovanni  and 
Niccol6. 

Of  this  Niccolo,  his  second  son,  we  have  very  little 
information ;  even  his  profession,  if  he  had  one,  is  un- 
known. What  is  certain  is,  that  he  married  a  daughter 
of  the  illustrious  house  of  Bonaccorsi '  of  Mantua,  Elena 

*  The  Porta  Savonarola  at  Padua  recalls  to  mind  the  neigh- 
boring residence  of  that  noble  family ;  and  in  the  Prato  della 
Valle  stands  a  statue  of  Antonio  Savonarola,  who  manfully  de- 
fended his  native  city  in  the  middle  of  the  thirteenth  century. — 
Von  Reumont  :  Lorenzo  de^  Medici^  bk.  vi.  c.  6  (Mr.  Harri- 
son's translation). 

2  This  Este  is  known  as  Niccol6  III.,  Marquis  of  Ferrara. 

B  Thus  Pico,  and  Villari  in  his  first  edition.  In  his  second 
(i.  2),  he  spells  the  name  Bonacossi. 


SAVONAROLA* S  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YEARS. 


31 


by  name,  and  that  they  had  two  daughters  and  five  sons, 
of  whom  our  Girolamo  was  the  third.*  Born,  as  we 
have  said,  September  21,  he  was  baptized  on  October  4, 
the  feast  of  St.  Francis,  in  the  church  of  Santa  Maria 
del  Vaio,  and  received  the  baptismal  names  of  Girolamo 
Maria  Francesco  Matteo.** 

If  we  know  nothing  of  Savonarola's  father,  we  are 
told  enough  of  his  mother  to  prove  that  there  was  in 
his  case  no  exception  to  the  theory  that  great  men  have 
usually  had  remarkable  mothers.  She  was  a  woman  of 
a  powerful  understanding,  and  of  a  masculine  force  of 
character ;  and  we  have  a  touching  proof  of  the  affec- 
tion with  which  her  greatest  son  continued  through  life 
to  regard  her  in  the  fact  that,  whilst  his  first  letter  after 
entering  the  Dominican  order  was  written  to  his  father, 
it  was  to  his  mother  that  he  addressed  himself  in  the 
days  of  sorrow  and  trial  which  were  so  frequent  in  his 
later  life. 

As  a  child  it  would  appear  that  Savonarola  was  dis- 
tinguished by  the  seriousness,  it  might  be  said  almost 
the  sorrowfulness,  which  was  his  lasting  characteristic,  as 

1  Burlamacchi  gives  us  the  following  information  respecting 
thern.  The  sons  were :  i.  Ognibene,  who  became  a  soldier ; 
2.  Bartolommeo,  whose  profession  is  unknown  ;  3.  Girolamo ; 
4.  Marco,  first  a  secular  priest,  afterwards  a  Dominican  monk 
under  his  brother,  taking  the  name  of  Fra  Maurelio  or  Marco 
Aarelio ;  5.  Alberto,  a  skilful  physician  and  kind  to  the  poor, 
in  both  respects  emulating  the  fame  of  his  grandfather.  The 
daughters  were  Beatrice,  who  remained  unmarried,  and  Clara, 
who,  losing  her  husband  while  young,  lived  a  widow  with  her 
mother  and  her  brother  Alberto.  Burlamacchi,  Vita  di  Savo- 
narola, p.  3  (Lucca,  1764). 

^  The  names  are  given  by  his  father  in  a  note  appended  to 
a  copy  of  his  son's  work,  Sul  Dispregio  del  Mondo ;  also  by 
Burlamacchi. 


t 


32 


SAVONAROLA. 


11 1  > 


•I   .   ' 

'i    ,  <{ 


r     I 


well  as  the  character  of  the  higher  mind  of  the  whole 
age  to  which  he  belonged.  In  person,  as  we  may  judge 
from  the  agreement  of  several  existing  portraits,  he  .ras 
by  no  means  attractive ;  and  the  fascination  which  he 
exercised  over  those  who  came  in  contact  with  him 
proceeded  from  tone,  spirit,  and  character,  and  not  from 
any  physical  endowments.  Of  his  personal  appearance 
we  are  enabled  to  judge,  not  only  from  the  portraits,* 
but  also  from  the  careful  descriptions  of  his  three 
contemporary  biographers.^ 

In  stature  he  was  rather  below  the  middle  size,  but 
erect  and  easy  in  carriage.  His  complexion  was  fair, 
and  somewhat  ruddy.  His  forehead  was  massive  and 
broad,'  and  deeply  furrowed  with  wrinkles ;  his  eyes 
dark  blue,  bright,  and  penetrating,  with  long,  reddish 
eyelashes,  and  surmounted  by  thick  eyebrows.  His 
nose  was  prominent  and  hooked,  and  he  had  a  large 
mouth  with  full  under-lip,  which  is  said  to  have  com- 
municated a  most  pleasing  expression  to  his  whole 
countenance.  His  limbs  were  well  proportioned,  in- 
clining neither  to  leanness  nor  corpulency,  but  of  a  fine 

1  Besides  an  intaglio  and  some  portraits  o£  uncertain  origin, 
there  are  three  of  great  value :  the  first  a  fresco  in  Savonarola's 
cell  at  St.  Mark's,  from  the  pencil  of  Fr^  Bartolommeo,  one  of 
his  own  /rait.  The  second,  by  the  same  painter,  is  in  the 
Academy  of  Fine  Arts  at  Florence,  and  represents  Savonarola  as 
Peter  Martyr.  A  third  portrait,  of  considerable  merit,  is  pre- 
served in  the  Rubieri  family,  and  is  also  attributed  to  Frk 
Bartolommeo. 

2  Pico  della  Mirandola,  c.  i. ;  Burlamacchi;  and  Frk  Bene- 
detto, Cedrus  Libani,  c.  5. 

8  Burlamacchi  speaks  of  it  as  "  eminente  e  elevata,"  and  Pico 
as  "sublimis;"  but,  judging  from  all  the  portraits,  this  must 
describe  the  effect  produced  by  .s  massiveness,  and  not  by  its 
height. 


-rmr. 


SAVONAROLA  S  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YEARS. 


33 


and  delicate  organization.  His  hands  were  very  thin,  — 
so  thin  that  when  he  was  preaching  they  seemed 
transparent,  and  his  fingers  were  unusually  long  and 
tapering.  Naturally  he  was  of  the  saUcUino-bilious 
temperament ;  *  but  his  face  was  wonderfully  calm,  and 
of  such  sweetness  of  expression  that  "  it  seemed  to  have 
descended  from  heaven."  In  conversation  and  deport- 
ment he  was  of  unequalled  gentleness,  "  affable,  sweet, 
and  without  any  asperity."  Such  was  the  man  as  he 
appeared  to  his  most  intimate  friends  in  the  maturity 
of  his  life,  activity,  and  power.  We  can  imagine  what 
the  boy  was  like  in  those  early  days  at  Ferrara,  before 
that  massive  brow  was  furrowed,  when  the  sorrows  of 
the  future  were  only  dimly  foreshadowed  in  the  v'^alm 
and  serious  life  of  the  brooding,  meditative,  retiring 
boy. 

Whether  because  his  eldest  brother  Ognibene  was 
early  marked  out  for  the  army,  and  his  second  brother 
Bartolommeo  was  destined  to  succeed  to  his  father's 
possessions,  or  because  of  his  own  conspicuous  native 
powers,  he  was  intended  by  his  parents  and  by  his 
illustrious  grandfather  for  the  medical  profession,  —  the 
chief  source  of  their  glory  as  a  family.  It  was  perhaps 
for  this  reason  that  the  aged  Michele  Savonarola  in- 
terested himself  so  deeply  in  this  grandchild  that  for 
several  years  he  superintended  his  education,  and 
taught  him  with  the  greatest  energy  and  patience,  and 
with  more  than  fatherly  affection.  The  instructor  did 
not  want  an  apt  and  willing  pupil;  he  found  in  his 
grandson  a  mind  thirsting  for  knowledge,  of  more  than 
ordinary  clearness  and  acuteness,  and  endowed  with  a 

1  "  Sanguigno-bilioso,"  says  Villari,  —  corresponding  to  what 
we  should  call  choleric  and  melancholic. 

3 


H 


34 


SAVONAROLA. 


•    i 

'I 


It 

I" 


,t 


"marvellous  love  of  truth,"  and  a  "judgment  which 
seemed  carried  towards  truth  by  its  own  nature."  *  • 

When  Savonarola  was  but  ten  years  of  age,  in  1462, 
his  grandfather  died,  and  he  was  sent  to  one  of  the 
public  schools  of  his  native  town,  while  his  father 
privately  instructed  him  in  logic  and  philosophy.  His 
progress  at  school  was  most  decided.  The  devotion 
with  which  he  addicted  himself  to  his  studies  was  not 
more  remarkable  than  the  quickness  which  he  displayed  ; 
and  he  particularly  distinguished  himself  by  the  "  skill 
and  acuteness  "  which  he  showed  in  debate,  so  that 
even  in  those  early  days  his  companions  began  to  pre- 
dict his  future  greatness.  It  was  indeed  "difficult  to 
decide  whether  he  most  excelled  in  learning  or  in  the 
gravity  of  his  manners  ;  "  but  the  gentleness  of  his  dis- 
position seems  to  have  secured  for  him  the  esteem  even 
of  those  whom  he  excelled. 

In  those  days,  as  in  after  life,  he  loved  retirement 
and  shunned  publicity.  When  playing  with  the  other 
boys,  he  would  run  away  and  employ  himself  in  erect- 
ing little  altars ;  but  this  kind  of  tendency  is  so  common 
an.ong  boys  in  every  country  that  it  would  be  unsafe  to 
infer  that  he  was  already  thinking  of  devoting  himself  to 
the  monastic,  or  even  to  the  clerical  life.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  in  later  years  he  often  spoke  of  the  "  religious 
life"  as  that  which  is  supremely  happy,  and  that  he 
strove  to  lead  men  and  women  to  enter  this  state ;  but 
it  was  long  before  the  thought  of  it  was  deliberately 
adopted  by  himself.  When  at  last  he  took  refuge  in  the 
convent,   his    parents  were   evidently  unprepared  for 

1  Sentences  or  phrases  thus  marked  will  be  understood  to  be 
derived  from  one  or  other  of  the  original  authorities,  unless  when 
it  is  otherwise  specified. 


SAVONAROLA'S  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YEARS.       35 

such  a  step,  and  in  one  of  his  sermons  he  tells  us  that 
he  had  declared  a  thousand  times,  while  still  living  in 
the  world,  that  he  "  would  never  become  a  monk."  ^ 

The  determination  to  enter  the  religious  life  was 
brought  about  by  a  variety  of  causes,  and  not  by  any 
single  incident  or  series  of  events.  As  a  child  he  was 
of  a  serious  and  devout  disposition  ;  his  studies  inclined 
him  in  the  same  direction.  A  personal  disappomtment 
doubtless  disposed  him  to  take  the  darkest  views  of  the 
evil  age  in  which  his  lot  was  cast,  and  he  refers  to  a 
sermon  which  he  heard  when  about  two  and  twenty  as 
a  kind  of  turning-point  in  his  spiritual  history. 

At  the  time  that  Savonarola  was  being  educated  for 
the  medical  profession,  the  sciences  were  so  little  dis- 
tinguished that  the  scholastic  philosophy  was  an  essential 
part  of  his  professional  studies.  In  this  way  he  became 
acquainted  with  the  writings  of  Saint  Thomas  Aquinas 
and  with  the  Arabic  commentaries  on  Aristotle.  The 
hold  which  these  studies  gained  on  his  mind,  and  the 
attachment  to  the  great  schoolman  which  grew  up  with- 
in him,  fostered  his  native  tendencies,  and  gave  that 
direction  to  his  intellectual  and  religious  convictions 
and  purposes  by  which  he  was  influenced  through  life. 
Indeed,  so  absorbed  did  he  become  in  philosophy  and 
theology  —  spending  whole  days  over  them  —  that  he 
could  hardly  spare  any  thoughts  for  the  special  depart- 
ment of  medicine. 

The  study  of  Plato  belongs  to  a  later  period.  It  was, 
indeed,  impossible  for  a  thoughtful  Italian  to  remain 
ijjiorant  of  the  Platonic  philosophy  in  the  days  of  Poli- 
tian  and  Pico  della  Mirandola.  It  was  impossible  for 
Savonarola  to  escape  entirely  the  influence  of  the  Renais- 

1  Prediche  sopra  Amos  e  Zacharia,  Venet.,  1528,  fol.  251. 


I! 

y  ■ 


I 


36 


SAVONAROLA. 


'   » 


sance ;  and  he  tells  us  that  he  studied  the  Dialogues 
with  care  and  wrote  many  notes  on  them,  and  that  he 
was  in  some  danger  of  being  misled  by  their  fasrinations. 
He  speaks  m  one  of  his  sermons  of  the  fashion  for 
Platonism  having  become  so  strong  that  one  heard  of 
nothing  from  public  teachers  "  but  Plato,  that  divine 
man."  "I  was  in  that  error  myself,"  he  says,  "and 
studied  much  those  dialogues  of  Plato ;  but  when  God 
gave  me  light  I  destroyed  all  that  I  had  written  on  that 
subject." 

There  was  much  in  the  circumstances  of  his  times  to 
deepen  the  natural  seriousness  of  Savonarola.  The  state 
of  Ferrara  must  have  given  rise  to  grave  reflections  in 
one  who  was  little  apt  to  be  dazzled  by  the  splendor  of 
pomp  and  show.  Few  could  have  been  more  welcome 
in  the  halls  of  the  Este  than  the  members  of  the  house 
of  Savonarola ;  but  we  are  told  that  never  but  once 
could  Girolamo  be  induced  to  appear  at  court. 

Niccol6  III.,  who  had  invited  Michele  Savonarola  to 
Ferrara,  had  died  before  the  subject  of  this  memoir 
was  born,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  two  natural  sons, 
Lionello  and  Borso,  whom  he  had  caused  to  be  legiti- 
mized in  his  lifetime.  In  consequence  of  the  youth  of  his 
legitimate  son  Ercole.  Lionello  succeeded  his  father  In 
1 44 1,  and  died  in  1450.  He  rulr-l  with  such  success  in 
troubled  times  that  his  country  was  called  the  "  land  of 
peace."  Borso  was  a  man  of  a  different  stamp.*  He  was 
the  "  Magnificent "  of  Ferrara,  as  Lorenzo  de'  Medici 
was  of  Florence  ;  and  was  so  renowned  for  the  splendor 
of  his  court,  and  for  his  abilities  and  influence,  that  in 
distant  lands  he  was  spoken  of  as  the  king  of  Italy. 

It  was  while  Borso  was  Marquis  of  Ferrara,  and  in 

*  Cf.  Signer  Villari's  remarks,  lib.  i.  cap.  i.  p.  7. 


'  «^^=  i  I 


SAVONAROLA'S  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YEARS. 


37 


the  very  year  of  Savonarola's  birth  (1452),  that  Frede- 
rick III.  passed  through  Ferrara,  on  his  way  to  Rome  to 
receive  the  imperial  crown  at  the  hands  of  the  reigning 
Pope,  Nicholas  V.  He  was  received  with  great  state 
by  the  Marquis  and  court  of  Ferrara ;  but  as  he  had 
decided,  on  his  return  from  Rome,  to  raise  Borso  to 
the  ducal  dignity,  preparations  were  made  on  the  most 
splendid  scale  for  the  celebration  of  the  event. 

But  these  festivities  were  entirely  thrown  into  the 
shade  by  the  reception  accorded  to  Pius  II.,  in  1458, 
on  his  way  to  the  C'ouncil  of  Mantua,  at  which  he  was 
hoping  to  stir  up  Western  Christendom  to  undertake  a 
crusade  for  the  recovery  of  Constantinople.  We  need 
not  dwell  upon  the  hopeful  beginning  or  the  ridiculous 
failure  of  this  enterprise ;  and  we  have  no  means  of 
knowing  how  the  youthful  mind  of  Savonarola  was  im- 
pressed cither  by  the  splendid  pomps  of  his  native  city 
or  by  the  hopes  excited  on  behalf  of  the  suffering  East- 
ern Christians.  He  was  only  six  years  of  age  when  the 
Pope  passed  through  Ferrara,  on  his  way  to  the  council. 
He  must  have  been  a  witness  of  these  festivals  ;  and  he 
probably  knew  something  of  the  miseries  and  the  hopes 
of  the  Greeks.  All  that  we  know  is  that  he  was  not 
attracted  to  the  ruling  family.  When  Borso  died,  and 
his  half-brother,  the  legitimate  son  of  Niccol6  III.,  came 
to  the  throne  as  Ercole  I.,  in  147 1,  Savonarola  was 
nineteen. 

The  glory  of  the  Este  had  not  dazzled  him.  His  true 
eye  saw  the  hollowness  of  courtly  splendor.  His  deep 
religious  nature  was  shocked  by  the  worldliness  and 
worthlessness  of  the  lives  of  the  great.  His  instinctive 
and  unquenchable  love  of  liberty  could  never  delight 
in  the  degradation  and  misery  of  his  fellow-men,  which 


1,1      ': 


rA 


SAVONAROLA. 


always  result  from  even  the  inoht  graceful  despotism. 
The  chains  might  be  gilded,  or  even  golden ;  but  in  his 
eyes  they  were  none  the  less  fetters  upon  the  bodies 
and  souls  of  men. 

Of  his  early  thoughts  we  know  nothing.  Of  the  pro- 
gress of  his  education  we  have  hardly  any  information 
from  his  biographers,  only  such  scanty  facts  as  we  have 
noted,  besides  occasional  allusions  in  his  sermons.  But 
we  are  now  coming  to  the  period  in  which  we  have 
his  own  record  of  the  thoughts  and  emotions  that  were 
passing  in  his  mind.  He  had  been  a  solitary,  brooding 
boy,  "  living  little  in  the  society  of  his  fellows,  much 
in  his  own,"  caring  only  for  learning  and  knowledge, 
and  for  these  only  as  the  way  to  truth.  Much  he  thought 
and  meditated  on  the  life  of  man  and  the  end  for  which 
he  was  created ;  but  as  the  light  within  grew  brighter,  he 
became  more  and  more  conscious  of  the  darkness  with- 
out. Hora  novissima  ;  tempora  pessima :  "  The  world  is 
very  evil ;  the  times  are  waxing  late,"  —  this  was  the 
burden  of  his  thought.  The  words  which  the  spirit  of 
Polydorus  uttered  with  groans  in  the  ears  of  ^neas,  as 
he  told  his  father  afterwards,  he  recited  many  times  in  a 
day  with  tears  :  Heu  /  fiige  crudeles  terras^  fuge  litus 
avarumf — "Ah!  flee  from  this  cruel  land,  flee  from 
this  covetous  shore."  ' 

Of  the  letter  in  which  he  makes  this  declaration  we 
shall  have  to  speak  presently.  It  contains  his  reasons 
for  abandoning  the  world.  The  desire  arose,  he  says, 
from  his  beholding  "  the  great  misery  of  the  world,  the 
iniquities  of  men,  the  rapes,  the  adulteries,  the  robberies, 
the  pride,  the  idolatry,  the  cruel  blasphemy,  which  have 
come  to  such  a  height  in  the  world  that  there  is  no 

1  iEneid,  iii.  44. 


SAVONAROLA'S  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YEARS, 


39 


longer  any  one  found  who  does  good.  I  could  not 
bear,"  he  goes  on,  "  the  great  wickedness  of  the  blinded 
peoples  of  Italy ;  and  so  much  the  more  that  I  saw 
virtue  everywhere  disdained,  and  vice  held  in  honor. 
This  was  the  greatest  suffering  that  I  could  have  had  to 
endure  in  this  world  ;  on  which  account  I  prayed  every 
day  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  that  He  would  deign  to 
raise  me  up  out  of  this  mire.  And  I  made  continually 
short  prayers  to  God  with  the  most  earnest  devotion, 
saying,  *  Show  Thou  me  the  way  that  I  should  walk  in, 
for  I  lift  up  my  soul  unto  Thee,'  —  Notamfac  mihi  viam 
in  qua  ambulem,  quia  ad  Te  levavi  animam  meam."  ^ 

It  is  clear  that  these  were  not  mere  afterthoughts 
which  suggested  themselves  as  a  justification  of  the 
course  he  had  taken ;  for  the  same  feelings  are  ex- 
pressed in  a  poem  which  he  composed  three  years 
before,  when  he  was  only  twenty,  in  1472,  "On  the 
Ruin  of  the  World."  '» 

If  he  did  not  believe,  he  says,  in  the  infinite  provi- 
dence of  God,  what  he  saw  in  the  world  would  make 
him  agree  with  those  who  deny  Him  or  say  that  He 
sleeps  ;  for  everywhere  virtue  is  perished  and  every  de- 
cent custom,  and  there  is  no  true  light  in  the  world, 
nor  even  shame  for  vices.  Rapine  and  murder  are  so 
common  that  he  is  happy  who  practises  such  sins. 

At  one  moment  in  his  life  at  Ferrara  it  seemed  as 
though  the  world  might  begin  to  have  a  new  interest 
for  him ;  but  this  new  hope  had  scarcely  arisen  upon 
him  when  it  set,  leaving  him  involved  in  a  thicker  dark- 
ness. It  is  curious  that  his  biographers,  with  one  ex- 
ception, seem  to  have  known  nothing  of  Savonarola's 

1  Psalm  cxliii.  8. 

*  De  Ruina  Mundi,  in  Poesie  (Firenze),  1847,  pp  3-6. 


/.' 


m 


I  !l 


m 


i 


i 


t 

f-ji 

if 

I 
I 


1 1 


40 


SAVONAROLA. 


disappointment  in  love  ;  and  it  was  only  quite  recently 
that  this  incident  in  the  history  of  his  early  manhood 
was  brought  to  light.  It  is,  however,  recorded  by  his 
own  disciple,  Frk  Benedetto,*  and  there  is  no  reason 
to  doubt  the  truth  of  the  story.  ■•■-■'., 

It  would  be  inconsistent  with  all  the  testimonies  re- 
specting his  early  character  to  suppose  that  it  was  this 
event  which  gave  all  its  sadness  to  his  life.  But  it  can 
hardly  be  doubted  that  it  added  greatly  to  his  previous 
despondency.  The  incident  is  not  only  interesting  in  it- 
self, but  throws  some  light  upon  his  natural  disposition. 

A  citizen  of  Florence,  of  the  noble  family  of  the 
Strozzi,  banished  from  his  native  city,  had  come  to 
Ferrara,  bringing  with  him  a  natural  daughter.  Living 
in  the  house  next  to  Savonarola's,  she  attracted  the 
attention  and  gained  the  affections  of  Girolamo.  who 
one  day  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  offered  of 
speaking  to  her  on  the  subject  of  his  affection.  The 
answer  which  he  received  was  haughty  and  insolent : 
"  Do  you  imagine  that  the  blood  and  the  great  house 
of  the  Strozzi  could  form  an  alliance  with  that  of  Sa- 
vonarola?" It  was  an  unfortunate  reply.  The  girl 
remembered  only  one  half  of  her  parentage ;  and  the 
mortified  lover,  provoked  by  her  foolish  pride,  fiercely 
reminded  her  of  the  stain  on  her  birth.  We  may  be 
sure  that  he  repented  of  his  anger  when  the  flushing 
face  revealed  the  feelings  which  she  could  find  no  words 
to  express.  We  may  be  quite  sure  that  the  bitter  taunt 
which  he  had  cast  at  her  often  came  back  with  pain  to 
the  memory  of  the  chastened  Fr^  Girolamo  in  after 
years. 

'  Vulnera  Diligentis,  lib,  i.  c.  ^     It  was  first  discovered  by 
Meier  (cf.  Meier's  Leben,  c.  i.  s.  15),  •   • 


reason 


SAVONAROLA'S  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YEARS.      41 

The  feelings  of  weariness  and  revukion  which  the 
condition  of  the  Church  and  the  world  had  aroused 
within  him  went  on  deepening,  until  at  last  he  resolved 
to  leave  his  home  and  enter  a  monastery.  By  day  and 
by  night  his  thourhts  were  of  God  and  eternity,  and  he 
was  meditating  continually  on  the  possibility  of  living 
a  better  and  a  higher  life.,  When  he  was  twenty-two 
years  of  age,  we  are  told,  he  spent  a  whole  night  in 
considering  what  course  he  ought  to  take.  In  order  to 
assist  his  meditations  he  had  sprinkled  hi?  body  with  the 
coldest  water;  and  he  ended  by  dedicating  himself 
entirely  to  the  service  of  Jesus  Christ.^  It  was  about 
this  time  that  he  was  deeply  moved  by  the  preaching 
01  an  Augustinian  monk  at  Faenza,  which  seems  finally 
to  have  decided  his  taking  the  step  he  had  been  already 
meditating.  Long  afterwards  he  refers  to  the  impression 
then  made  upon  him  as  deep  and  powerful.  "  Once," 
he  says,  "  while  I  was  still  in  the  world,  I  went  for 
amusement  to  Faenza,  and  entering  by  chance  the 
church  of  St.  Augustine,  I  heard  a  word  from  an  Augus- 
tinian preacher,  which  I  will  not  tell  you  now,  but  which 
to  this  hour  I  have  in  my  heart ;  and  I  went  and 
became  a  friar  before  a  year  had  passed."  Frk  Bene- 
detto says  that  Savonarola  would  never  repeat  that  word ; 
and  that,  strangely,  the  monk  from  whom  he  heard  it 
was  known  as  a  man  of  irregular  life ;  from  which 
Savonarola  took  occasion  to  observe  that  we  might  learn 
to  do  well  from  the  Divine  Word,  whoever  preached  it. 

When  he  had  once  resolved  to  become  a  monk,  he 
had  little  difficulty  in  deciding  for  the  Dominican  order, 

*  An  incident  mentioned,  and  his  age  at  the  time,  both  by  Pico 
and  Burlamacchi. 
2  Prediche  sopra  Ezechiel,  Ven.,  1541,  fol.  172. 


Ji 


\    W 


I 


1   i 


y^^^*^,;tm% 


42 


SAVONAROLA, 


to  which  he  was  probably  attracted  by  many  consid- 
erations, but  chiefly  by  his  devotion  to  Saint  Thomas,  the 
great  glory  of  the  order.  We  can  imagine  the  emotions 
with  which  he  passed  through  Bologna  (probably  the 
route  he  took),  on  his  way  back  from  Faenza  to  Ferrara, 
with  these  new  resolves  working  in  his  mind. 

The  resolution  he  had  formed  at  once  lifted  a  burden 
from  his  heart,  for  he  felt  he  had  now  broken  with  the 
ungodly  world ;  but  this  joy  was  darkened  by  the  thought 
of  the  pain  he  was  about  to  inflict  upon  his  parents,  to 
whom  he  did  not  dare  to  disclose  his  purpose.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  his  mother  was  watching  him  with 
a  new  and  painful  interest,  as  though  she  were  striving 
to  read  his  very  heart.  For  a  whole  year  this  struggle 
went  on.  In  the  letter  to  his  father  from  which  we  have 
already  quoted  he  says,  "  If  I  had  shown  you  my  pur- 
pose, I  believe  verily  my  heart  would  have  broken  before 
I  could  have  parted  from  you,  and  I  should  have  aban- 
doned the  intention  I  had  formed." 

It  was  hard  to  leave  them,  in  any  case.  The  night 
before  he  set  forth  on  his  new  life,  he  took  his  lute  in 
his  hand  and  played  on  it  a  strain  so  sorrowful  that  his 
mother  seemed  to  divine  what  was  passing  in  his  heart, 
and  turning  to  him  with  saddened  looks  exclaimed,  "  My 
son,  this  is  a  sign  of  parting."  By  a  great  effort  he  kept 
his  eyes  on  the  ground,  and  continued  with  a  trembling 
hand  to  touch  the  lute,  without  venturing  to  answer. 

On  the  24th  of  April  the  whole  city  of  Ferrara  was 
celebrating  the  festival  of  St.  George ;  and  it  was  this 
day,  when  the  thoughts  of  the  populace  and  of  his  own 
family  were  entirely  occupied  with  the  festivities,  that 
Girolamo  had  chosen  as  a  time  when  he  could  escape 
without  being  observed.     He  took  his  way  to  Bologna 


V\      f* 


SAVONAROLA'S  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YEARS. 


43 


and  prayed  for  admission  to  the  Dominican  convent  of 
that  city,  where  the  great  founder  of  the  order  lies  en- 
shrined. He  made  but  one  special  request,  that  he 
might  be  appointed  to  perform  the  most  menial  duties 
of  the  fraternity. 

To  a  mind  lilce  that  of  Savonarola,  the  convent  might 
have  possessed  many  attractions.  His  tendencies  were 
towards  solitude  rather  than  intercourse  with  his  fellow- 
men  ;  and  here  he  might  gratify  his  tastes.  His  love 
for  Saint  Thomas  and  for  theological  study  might  have 
led  him  to  desire  a  manner  of  life  in  which  such  studies 
might  reasonably  have  formed  his  principal  occupation. 
How  little  such  considerations  weighed  with  him,  we 
may  judge  not  only  from  his  declaration  to  his  father 
that  he  had  come  to  the  resolution  of  leaving  the  world, 
because  he  could  no  longer  endure  the  corruption  of 
the  age,  but  also  from  the  purpose  which  he  formed 
respecting  his  employments  when  he  entered  the  convent. 

Savonarola  was  not  unaware  of  the  dangers  and  temp- 
tations of  the  monastic  life.  He  was,  indeed,  so  fearful 
of  putting  on  the  habit  of  the  religious  in  a  worldly  spirit 
tliat,  as  he  afterwards  informed  his  friend  and  biographer, 
Pico  della  Mirandola,  he  had  resolved  not  to  take  holy 
orders,  nor  even  to  addict  himself  to  his  favorite  philo- 
sophical studies.  It  was  his  fixed  intention  to  ask  to 
be  employed  in  manual  labor,  to  work  in  the  garden,  to 
make  clothes  for  the  brethren,  and  the  like.  This  reso- 
lution, says  Pico,  he  providentially  forgot,  God  intending 
him  for  a  teacher  of  others.  It  is  equally  probable  that 
in  the  same  spirit  of  humility  which  prompted  the  re- 
solve, he  abandoned  it  in  obedience  to  those  under 
whom  he  was  placed,  and  who  discerned  in  him  a  fitness 
for  higher  work. 

Although  he  had  shrunk  from  divulging  to  his  parents 


i  ! 


X  l\ 


\   n 


U 


>rf 


pi 


I 


: 


44 


SAVONAROLA. 


w     > 


his  intention  of  taking  the  religious  habit,  yet  he  would 
not,  for  a  moment  longer  than  he  thought  necessary, 
leave  them  in  ignorance  or  anxiety  as  to  the  step  he  had 
taken.  Among  his  books  in  his  desk  he  left  a  paper,  of 
which  a  copy  has  recently  been  found,  on  "  Contempt  of 
the  World ;  "  and  on  the  following  day  he  wrote  a  letter 
to  his  father,  explaining  the  reasons  which  had  moved 
him  to  leave  his  home. 

The  treatise  simply  sets  forth  the  thoughts  which  had 
been  growing  so  strong  within  him  of  the  evils  of  the 
world.  The  copy  recently  discovered  bears  upon  it  the 
following  touching  words,  in  Italian,  from  his  father's 
hand :  — 

"  I  remember  how,  on  the  24th  of  April,  which  was  St. 
George's  Day  in  1475,  Geronimo  my  son,  student  in  arts, 
departed  from  his  home  and  went  to  Bologna,  and  entered 
among  the  brothers  of  St.  Dominic  in  order  to  become  a 
brother ;  and  left  me,  me  Niccol6  della  Savonarola,  his 
father,  the  underwritten  consolations  and  exhortations  for 
my  satisfaction." 

The  letter  from  which  we  have  already  quoted  was 
marked  by  the  most  tender  affection  as  well  as  by  the 
greatest  earnestness.  He  tells  his  father,  "  I  wish  you, 
as  a  true  man  and  one  who  despises  fleeting  things,  to 
be  influenced  by  truth,  and  not  by  passion,  like  women, 
and  to  judge,  under  the  dominion  of  reason,  whether  I 
am  right  in  fleeing  from  the  world."  And  then  he  speaks 
of  the  evils  of  the  age  in  words  already  quoted. 

"  And  so,  dear  father,"  he  goes  on,  "  instead  of  weeping, 
you  have  rather  to  thank  the  Lord  Jesus,  who  has  given 
you  a  son,  and  then  has  preserved  him  to  you  for  twenty- 
two  years  ;  and  not  only  this,  but  besides  has  designed  to 
make  him  His  knight  militant  {inilitanto  cavaliero).  Ahl 
do  you  not  regard  it  as  a  great  grace  to  have  a  son  a  knight 


) 


i. 


SAVONAROLA'S  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YEARS.      45 

of  Jesus  Christ  ?  But,  to  speak  shortly,  cither  it  is  true 
that  you  love  me,  or  it  is  not  true.  I  know  well  that  you 
will  not  say  you  do  not  love  me.  If  then  you  love  me, 
since  I  have  two  parts,  that  is,  the  soul  and  the  body,  do 
you  love  most  the  soul,  or  the  body  ?  You  cannot  say  the 
body,  because  you  would  not  love  me  if  you  loved  the  baser 
part  of  me.  If  then  you  love  the  soul  best,  why  should 
you  not  seek  the  good  of  the  soul  ?  Therefore  you  ought 
to  rejoice,  and  to  regard  this  as  a  triumph.  .  .  .  Do  you 
believe  that  it  is  not  a  great  grief  for  me  to  be  separated 
from  you  ?  Believe  me,  that  never  since  I  was  born  have 
I  had  a  greater  grief  nor  a  greater  afHiction  of  mind,  see- 
ing myself  abandon  my  own  blood,  and  go  among  people 
unknown,  in  order  to  make  a  sacrifice  to  Jesus  Christ  of 
my  body,  and  to  sell  my  will  into  the  hands  of  those  whom 
I  never  knew.  But  yet,  considering  that  God  calls  me, 
and  that  He  does  not  disdain  of  us  worms  to  make  Himself 
servants,  I  could  not  be  so  bold  as  not  to  incline  to  His 
most  sweet  voice,  which  says,  *  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  that 
labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest.  Take 
My  yoke  upon  you.'  ...  I  pray  you  then,  my  dear  father, 
put  a  stop  to  your  lamentations,  and  do  not  give  me  more 
sadness  and  grief  than  I  now  endure,  —  not  for  grief  of  that 
which  I  have  done,  which  I  certainly  do  not  wish  to  recall, 
even  if  I  thought  I  could  become  greater  than  Caesar,  but 
because  I  am  still  made  of  flesh,  as  you  are,  and  the  senses 
fight  against  the  reason.  ...  It  only  remains  for  me  to 
pray  you,  like  a  man,  to  comfort  my  mother,  whom  I  pray, 
together  with  you,  to  give  me  your  benediction  :  and  I  will 
always  pray  fervently  for  your  souls.  Ex  Bononia,  die  xxv. 
-(4/rz7z>  (Bologna,  April  25),  1475.  .  .  .  Hieronymus  Savo- 
narola^ films  vester.  To  the  noble  and  excellent  man  Nic- 
olas Savonarola,  the  best  of  parents  (^parenti  optimo).'''  ^ 

*  This  letter  has  been  often  published,  but  an  accurate  copy 
was  for  the  first  time  printed  from  the  autograph  by  the  Count 
Carlo  Capponi.  Villari  reproduces  this  text,  and  from  his  work 
our  translation  is  made. 


), 


46 


SAVONAROLA. 


What  effect  this  letter  may  have  produced  we  cannot 
tell,  but  there  is  a  second  letter  extant,  without  date, 
in  which  he  complains  of  their  excessive  grief. 

"  Why  do  ye  weep,  blind  ones  ?  "  he  begins.  "  Why  do 
ye  complain  so  much  ?  If  our  temporal  prince  had  called 
me  now  to  gird  a  sword  on  my  side  in  the  midst  of  the 
people,  and  to  make  me  one  of  his  knights,  what  joy  you 
would  have  experienced  !  And  if  I  had  then  repudiated 
such  an  honor,  would  you  not  have  thought  me  a  fool  ?  .  .  . 
And  now  the  Prince  of  princes,  He  who  is  of  infinite 
power,  calls  me  with  a  loud  voice,  even  prays  me  (O  great 
love  !)  with  a  thousand  tears,  to  gird  a  sword  on  my  side, 
of  the  finest  gold  and  precious  stones,  and  w- jhes  to  place 
me  among  the  number  of  His  knights  militant.  And  now, 
because  I  have  not  refused  so  great  honor,  although  I  am 
unworthy  (and  who  would  refuse  it  ?),  —  because  I,  giving 
thanks  to  so  great  a  Lord,  since  He  thus  wills,  have  ac- 
cepted it,  —  you  all  afflict  me,  when  you  ought  to  rejoice 
and  give  thanks  ;  and  the  more  you  do  so,  the  more  you 
show  that  you  love  me." 


I'  11 


\. 


MONASTIC  UFE  AT  BOLOGNA. 


47 


CHAPTER  III. 


MONASTIC   LIFE  AT  BOLOGNA. 


When  Savonarola  arrived  in  Bologna,  the  city,  after 
many  variations  of  fortune,  had  become,  in  name  at  least, 
the  second  capital  of  the  Papal  States,  although  the 
family  of  Bentivoglio,  by  whom  it  was  governed,  held  the 
papal  supremacy  very  lightly.  But  the  young  novice 
had  at  this  time  no  thoughts  for  questions  which  he 
afterwards  felt  to  be  of  vital  importance  to  the  well-being 
of  Italy.  We  may  even  doubt  whether  that  splendid 
shrine  in  the  convent  church,  one  of  the  greatest  works 
of  Nicola  da  Pisa,  upon  which  so  many  pilgrims  have 
gazed  with  admiration,  interested  him  otherwise  than  as 
the  resting-place  of  the  great  founder  of  his  order. 

During  his  iiovitiate,  and  indeed  during  his  whole  life 
at  Bologna,  he  abstained,  as  far  as  possible,  from  all  so- 
cial intercourse  with  his  fellow-men.  Every  hour  that 
he  could  gain  for  the  purpose  he  spent  in  silent  medita- 
tion and  prayer.  His  companions  compared  his  man- 
ner and  conduct  to  those  of  the  ancient  ascetics  and 
hermits  of  Egypt,  as  they  saw  him  moving  about  like  a 
ghost,  worn  to  a  shadow  by  fasts  and  vigils. 

In  every  respect  he  kept  his  vow  of  poverty  to  the 
letter,  or  rather  in  excess.  He  ate  only  enough  to  sus- 
tain life.  His  garments  were  the  roughest  and  the 
coarsest  that  he  could  procure,  but  always  scrupulously 


j 


\ 


48 


SAVONAROLA. 


I 
i 


clean.  His  shoes  were  long  and  turned  up  at  the  points, 
for,  he  said,  "  they  would  be  full  of  precious  stones  in 
Paradise."  His  bed  consisted  of  pieces  of  wood  and 
sticks  laid  across  so  as  to  form  a  kind  of  lattice-work,  on 
which  were  placed  a  sack  of  straw  and  a  woollen  sheet, 
with  a  coarse  frock  thrown  over  them. 

As  regards  his  vow  of  purity,  his  biographers  speak  of 
his  eminence  in  this  respect  as  being  represented  in  his 
writings,  and  as  the  reason  for  his  being  favored  with 
visions  of  the  world  of  spirits.  Nor  was  his  obedience 
less  remarkable  ;  for  while  he  was  in  most  perfect  subjec- 
tion to  his  superiors,  he  was  humble  and  gentle  to  equals 
and  inferiors,  and  although  he  spoke  very  little,  he  was 
always  kind  and  affable  in  manner.  It  was  perhaps  the 
happiest  and  most  tranquil  period  in  all  his  life.  Speak- 
ing of  it  afterwards,'  he  says :  "  It  was  said  to  me,  Go 
forth  from  your  home  and  your  country,  and  leave  all. 
And  I  was  guided  to  the  harbor  of  the  sea,  that  is,  to 
religion,  which  is  the  true  and  safe  harbor  to  him  who 
seeks  for  salvation.  And  I  came  to  this  port  when  I 
was  twenty- three  years  old.  And  two  things  above  all 
others  I  loved,  which  drew  me  to  this  harbor,  —  liberty 
and  peace."  ,r. 

With  all  his  gentleness  and  humility,  he  did  not  lack 
those  powers  of  sarcasm  which  were  afterwards  displayed 
in  his  preaching.  There  is  a  story  told  of  two  monks  of 
Vallombrosa  who  came  to  visit  him,  who  were  them- 
selves so  struck  by  the  contrast  between  his  coarse 
garments  and  their  own  more  luxurious  attire  that  they 
thought  it  necessary  to  give  some  explanation  of  their 
usages.    Their  frocks,  they  said,  were  made  of  fine 

1  Prediche  sopra  alquanti  Salmi  ed  Aggeo,  Ven.,  1544, 
fol.  141. 


MONASTIC  LIFE  AT  BOLOGNA. 


49 


cloth  because  it  wore  so  much  longer.  "  Ah,"  replied 
the  Fra;e,  dryly,  "  what  a  pity  it  is  that  Saint  Benedict 
and  Saint  Giovanni  Gualberto  did  not  know  that ;  for 
then  they  might  have  worn  the  same  ! "  ^ 

Duiing  the  seven  years  that  he  remained  in  the  con- 
vent at  Bologna  he  was  unremitting  in  his  studies.  His 
old  favorite.  Saint  Thomas,  he  never  abandoned,  and 
he  greatly  delighted  in  works  of  devotion  like  those  of 
Augustine  and  Cassian  ;  but  there  grew  in  him  an  ever- 
increasing  tendency  to  turn  from  other  books  and  give 
himself  more  and  more  to  the  study  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures. He  is  said  ^  to  have  committed  the  whole  of  the 
Canonical  Books  to  memory,  —  a  practice  which  bore 
abundant  fruits  in  his  after  labors ;  and  it  was  here  that 
he  formed  the  habit,  never  afterwards  abandoned,  of 
making  notes  on  the  margins  of  his  Bible,  his  Breviary, 
and  other  books.  Several  of  these  are  still  in  existence, 
and  one  of  the  most  interesting  objects  now  shown  in 
the  convent  of  St.  Mark  at  Florence  is  one  of  his  Bibles, 
kept  in  his  cell,  the  margins  of  which  are  covered 
with  notes  in  his  beautiful  but  minute  handwriting.  It 
is  an  instance  of  the  affectionate  interest  which  his  early 
biographers  took  in  the  smallest  particulars  of  his  life 
and  habits,  and  also  of  the  uncertain  inferences  they 
drew  from  them,  that  Burlamacchi  mentions  that  this 
habit  of  annotating  his  Bible  and  Breviary  with  all  that 
was  necessary  for  preaching  and  hearing  confessions 
enabled  him  to  travel  without  a  valise   {la  valigia)  ! 

It  was  not  long  before  his  superiors  determined  to 
make  use  of  his  gifts  for  the  benefit  of  the  community ; 

1  Burlamacchi  gives  the  story  here  ;  it  is  quite  as  likely,  how- 
ever, to  have  belonged  to  the  period  of  his  reforms  at  Florence. 

2  Burlamacchi. 


h 


li 


"T^ 


50 


SAyONAROLA. 


I 


and  therefore  they  set  him  to  instruct  the  novices  of  the 
convent.  It  was  with  no  small  reluctance  that  he  com- 
plied Vv^ith  this  commuiid,  foreseeing,  as  he  did,  that  it 
would  involve  the  sacrifice  of  many  hours  of  solitude, 
of  meditation  and  prayer ;  but  he  obeyed,  and  in  this, 
as  in  every  other  occupation,  he  gained  the  esteem  and 
admiration  of  his  brethren. 

The  "  peace  and  liberty  "  which  he  had  sought  and 
found  might  now  have  secured  to  him  a  calm  and  tran- 
quil life,  if  he  could  have  forgotten  the  evils  of  the 
world,  if  he  had  not  found  these  evils  asserting  their 
dominion  within  the  walls  of  the  convent.  Already,  we 
are  told,  he  was  struck  with  the  contrast  between  the 
monks  of  his  own  day  and  those  of  earlier  and  better 
days,  when  he  saw  multitudes  around  him  heedless  of 
the  Word  of  God  and  the  life  of  grace,  and  "  intent 
only  upon  enriching  the  churches  and  building  the  most 
beautiful  convents,  and  many  others  occupying  them- 
selves in  numberless  vanities." 

It  might  seem  to  be  a  proud  boast  which  he  uttered 
in  later  days,  that  he  was  entirely  devoted  to  the  pursuit 
of  truth ;  but  those  who  follow  him  from  the  time  of  his 
entering  the  Dominican  order  throughout  his  life,  and 
thoughtfully  ponder  his  words  and  his  deeds,  his  utter- 
ances in  public  and  in  private,  and  his  conduct  as  a 
priest  and  a  patriot,  will  hardly  refuse  to  allow  the  truth 
of  his  claim. 

"  I  have  always,"  he  says,  *'  striven  after  truth  with  all 
my  might,  and  sought  unceasingly  to  win  all  men  to  it, 
as  I  have  declared  a  constant  war  against  falsehood, 
which  I  have  always  hated.  The  more  trouble  I  be- 
stow upon  it,  the  greater  becomes  my  longing,  so  that 
for  it  I  could  abandon  life  itself.     When  I  was  but  a 


-!'!»>IlW»!S»'l«BI!-.»»- 


MONASTIC  LIFE  AT  BOLOGNA. 


51 


boy,  I  had  such  thoughts ;  and  from  that  time  the 
desire  and  longing  after  this  good  has  gone  on  increas- 
ing to  the  present  day.  "  *  "  Truth,"  he  says  in  another 
place,  "should  be  loved  for  its  own  sake,  and  brings 
great  joy  to  those  who  find  it.  It  enlightens  the  spirit 
with  a  divine  splendor,  and  leads  the  soul  to  communion 
with  God,  who  is  Truth  itself."  * 

To  such  a  man  the  condition  of  men  and  things 
around  him  was  intolerable.  His  first  poem  has  shown 
us  what  he  thought  of  the  world  before  he  left  it.  He 
had  not  been  long  in  the  convent  before  he  wrote  a  sec- 
ond on  the  ruin  of  the  Church  (**  De  ruina  Ecclesioe  ")• 
It  is  said  to  have  been  composed  in  the  year  1475,  ^^^ 
first  of  his  monastic  life.  "  Where,"  he  asks,  addressing 
the  Church  as  a  "chaste  virgin,"  to  whom  he,  although 
unworthy,  belongs,  being  one  of  the  members  of  her 
eternal  Spouse,  —  "  where  is  the  light  of  the  early  days  ? 
Where  are  the  gems  and  the  fine  diamonds?  Where 
are  the  burning  lamps  and  the  beautiful  sapphires  ?  "  — 
meaning  the  saints  and  martyrs,  the  love  and  devotion  of 
the  early  Church.  "Where  are  the  white  stoles  and  the 
sweet  chants?  "  The  virgin  takes  him  by  the  hand  and 
leads  him  to  a  cave,  and  tells  him  that,  when  she  saw 
proud  ambition  enter  Rome,  she  departed,  and  dwelt 
where  she  could  lead  her  life  in  lamentation.  Then  she 
shows  him  her  wounded  body  and  her  dishevelled  hair ; 
and  when  he  asks  who  it  is  that  has  thus  dethroned 
her  and  broken  her  peace,  she  answers :  "  A  false,  proud 
harlot,  Babylon."  "And  I :  '  In  God's  name,  lady  tell 
me,  can  these  great  wings  be  broken?'     And  she: 


*  Dialogo  della  veriti  profetica,  fol.  72. 
2  Prediche    sopra    diversi    Salmi,   etc.,    fol.   42. 
Meier,  p.  21.) 


(Qu.    by 


52 


SAVONAROLA. 


'  Mortal  tongue  must  not  speak  it ;  nor  is  it  allowed  to 
take  up  arms.    Weep  and  be  silent,  for  this  's  best.* "  ^ 

Whei  we  remember  that  Sixtus  IV.  was  Pope  during 
the  whole  of  the  seven  years  that  Savonarola  spent  at 
Bologna,  we  shall  understand  what  hope  of  reformation 
he  could  have  drawn  from  the  character  of  the  Head  of 
the  Church.  But  the  secular  rulers  of  Italy  were  no 
better  —  how  could  they  have  been  better?  —  than  its 
spiritual  chief.  Liberty  had  perished  in  all  the  ancient 
republics,  Venice  alone,  perhaps,  excepted.  Bologna 
was  ruled  by  a  Bentivoglio.  Milan  was  under  the  weak 
but  tyrannical  Galeazzo  Sforza.  Florence,  after  being 
ruled  by  the  wise  and  able  Cosimo  de'  Medici,  who 
never  discarded  the  forms  of  liberty  even  v.hen  the  real- 
ity was  gone,  had  been  succeeded  (1464)  by  his  weak 
and  incapable  son,  Piero,*^  who,  happily  for  the  prospects 
of  his  family,  died  in  1469,  and  was  succeeded  by 
Lorenzo. 

It  is  not  merely  in  order  to  illustrate  the  condition  of 
the  world  at  this  time,  but  alsv")  on  account  of  its  direct 
bearing  upon  the  history  of  Savonarola,  that  we  pause  for 
a  moinent  to  relate  the  history  of  a  tragedy,  neglected  by 
no  historian  of  this  period,  which  look  place  at  Florence 
in  1478,  three  years  after  Savoniurola  entered  the  con- 
vent at  Bologna,  four  years  before  he  left  it  and  came  to 
Florence.  Whether  we  consider  the  character  and  po- ' 
sition  of  the  family  assailed,  the  i.ature  and  ramifications 
of  the  conspiracy  formed  against  them,  the  designs  of 

1  The  poem  is  given,  with  copious  notes,  in  the  Poesie,  ed« 
ited  by  Audin  de  Rians  (Firenze,  1847). 

2  Von  Reumont  shows,  however,  that  this  Piero  was  a  man 
possessed  of  many  admirable  qualities,  —  very  different  from  his 
grandson  who  bore  the  same  name. 


i  I 


'"■'flT'^WdP'l 


MONASTIC  LIFE  AT  BOLOGNA. 


53 


the  conspirators,  or  the  actual  results  of  the  attempt, 
the  conspiracy  of  the  Pazzi  will  appear  to  be  one  of 
the  most  remarkable  events  of  the  period  to  whicl  it 
belongs. 

The  name  of  the  Medici  will  hold  a  prominent  place 
in  these  pages.  They  were  the  most  powerful  family  in 
Florence,  and  in  some  respects  they  had  merited  the 
influence  to  which  they  had  attained.  The  Pazzi  were 
among  the  oldest  families  and  the  greatest  of  the  same 
State.  They  were  connected  with  the  Medici  by  mar- 
riage ;  but  for  some  reasons,  real  or  imagined,^  they 
bore  a  grudge  against  them,  and  they  envied  them  the 
power  which  they  possessed  in  Florence.  But  the  Pazzi 
v/ere  not  alone  in  the  conspiracy.  It  has  even  been 
doubted  whether  they  were  its  prime  movers.  That 
place  has,  by  some  historians,  been  assigned  to  the 
Holy  Father  himself ;  and  if  Sixtus  IV.  was  not  the  in- 
stigator of  the  attempt,'''  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  gave 
it  the  most  energetic  support,  and  his  nephew,  the 
Count  Girolamo  Riario,  took  an  active  part  in  the  whole 
scheme.  Their  design  was  to  murder  Lorenzo  de* 
Medici  and  his  brother  Giuliano,  and  thus  to  crush  the 
power  which  was  inconvenient  to  the  Pope  and  hateful 
to  the  Pazzi.  Determined  to  stop  at  no  obstacles, 
when  they  found  it  almost  impossible  to  slay  the  two 
brothers  at  once,  they  determined  at  last  to  assassinate 
them  at  the  time  of  High  Mass,  on  the  occasion  of  a 
great  solemnity  in  the  cathedral  of  Florence. 

A  soldier  of  some  reputation,  by  name  Montesecco, 
had  been  employed  to  perpetrate  the  crime ;   but  the 

*  They  were  not  merely  imaginary.  Cf.  Von  Reumont,  Lo- 
renzo de'  Medici,  bk.  ii.  c.  i. 

^  The  Pope  professed,  at  least,  to  discountenance  the  murder. 


KMH 


54 


SAVONAROLA. 


(    I 


I     ! 


man  who  was  ready  to  commit  murder  was  not  pre- 
pared to  incur  the  guilt  of  sacrilege.  They  had  to  find 
other  tools,  and  they  found  them  in  two  priests.  This 
can  hardly  -^eem  wonderful,  when  the  conspirators  were 
supported  ^.y  the  Pope,  and  had  for  their  most  active 
leader  Francesco  Salviati,  Archbishop  of  Pisa.  This 
man  had  been  appointed  by  the  Pope  in  opposition  to 
the  wishes  of  the  Medici,  and  he  was  now  in  Florence, 
taking  counsel  with  the  other  conspirators,  waiting  to 
reap  his  revenge.  The  murder  accomplished,  they  were 
going  to  raise  the  populace,  under  the  pretence  of  re- 
storing their  lost  liberty,  and  then  to  take  possession  of 
the  property  of  the  murdered  men. 

The  signal  for  the  striking  of  the  blow  was  the  bell 
which  announced  the  elevation  of  the  host ;  and  Giuli- 
ano  de'  Medici^  fell  dead  under  the  knife  of  one  of  the 
assassins.  Lorenzo  was  only  wounded,  and  was  able  to 
defend  himself  until,  with  the  assistance  of  his  friends,  he 
escaped  into  the  sacristy  of  the  church.  Still,  the  con- 
spirators hoped  their  work  was  not  in  vain  ;  they  might 
raise  the  populace,  and  finish  it  by  open  vie  ience.  The 
populace  rose  in  defence  of  the  Medici.  In  a  few  hours 
the  Archbishop  of  Pisa  was  swinging,  in  his  episcopal 
robes,  from  a  window  of  the  Palazzo  Vecchio,  and  one 
of  the  Pazzi  was  hanged  beside  him.  The  conspiracy 
had  failed,  and  many  of  the  conspirators  were  hunted 
down  and  slain. 

The  wrath  of  the  Pope  knew  no  bounds,  and  broke 
forth  in  threats  and  anathemas,  —  not  against  the  sac- 
rilegious desecrators  of  temples,  the  conspirators,  the 
assassins,  but  against  Florence  and  the  Medici.     It  is 

■-  Oi  this  Giuliano,  Pope  Clement  VII.  was  the  illegitimate 
son. 


>- 


-i»1S!>|'~«!»»«H'-.^, 


•"Wfimmj^ » 


MONASTIC  LIFE  AT  BOLOGNA. 


55 


worth  while  to  glance  at  the  document  in  which  he  set 
forth  the  wrongs  he  nad  suffered  from  the  Florentines, 
and  the  punishment  he  found  it  necessary  to  inflict  upon 
them.  "  According  to  the  example  of  the  Saviour,"  said 
his  Holiness,  "  he  had  long  suffered  in  peace  the  insults 
and  the  injuries  of  his  enemies,  and  he  should  still  have 
continued  to  exercise  his  forbearance,  had  not  Lorenzo 
de'  Medici,  with  the  magistrates  of  Florence  and  their 
abettors,  discarding  the  fear  of  God,  inflamed  with  fury, 
and  instigated  by  diabolical  suggestions,  laid  violent 
hands  on  ecclesiastical  persons,  hung  up  the  archbishop, 
imprisoned  the  cardinal  [his  nephew],  and  by  various 
means  destroyed  and  slaughtered  their  followers  [the 
accomplices  of  the  assassins]."  He  then  proceeded  to 
excommunicate  Lorenzo  and  the  magistrates  of  the 
republic,  and  their  "immediate  successors,  declaring 
them  incapable  of  receiving  or  transmitting  property  by 
inheritance  or  will,  and  prohibiting  their  descendants 
frOiii  enjoying  any  ecclesiastical  employment.  By  the 
same  instrument  he  suspended  the  bishops  and  clergy 
of  the  Florentine  territories  from  the  exercise  of  their 
spiritual  functions."  ^ 

These  things  were  not  done  in  a  corner,  the  sound  of 
them  went  throughout  all  the  world.  We  may  judge 
whether  the  Dominican  friar  at  Bologna  who,  three  years 
before,  had  in  his  Canzona  spoken  of  Rome  as  Baby- 
lon, "  a  false,  proud  harlot,"  could  now  shake  off  the 
horror  with  which  he  regarded  the  state  of  the  visible 
Church  in  its  root  and  in  its  branches.  The  Pope,  be 
it  remembered,  was  that  Sixtus  IV.  who  occupied  the 
"  chair  of  Peter  "  during  the  whole  of  the  seven  years  in 

1  Roscoe,  Life  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  c.  iv.  Cf.  also  Capponi, 
Repubblica  di  Firenze,  lib.  v.  c.  5. 


i\i 


! 


56 


SAVONAROLA. 


which  Savonarola  was  watching  and  praying,  and  study- 
ing and  teaching,  and  grieving  over  the  ruin  of  the 
Church  at  Bologna.  Amid  such  circumstances  were  his 
thoughts  and  purposes  for  the  future  being  shaped. 
Under  such  influences  was  he  trying  to  learn  what  work 
his  Master  had  set  him  to  do  in  the  world. 
'  Savonarola's  success  as  a  teacher  was  so  great  that  his 
superiors  appointed  him  to  preach ;  nor  was  he  slow  in 
yielding  obedience  to  the  command.  The  fire  was 
kindling  within  him,  and  he  was  preparing,  unconsci- 
ously, perhaps,  to  speak  with  his  tongue  words  that 
would  be  felt  and  remembered.  This  result  was  not, 
however,  achieved  at  once.  It  is  with  some  astonish- 
ment that  we  learn  how  little  his  first  sermons  seem  to 
have  gained  the  attention  of  his  hearers.  The  reasons 
were  manifold,  and  they  are  to  be  sought  partly  in  the 
corrupt  taste  of  the  age,  and  partly  in  the  peculiar  genius 
and  mission  of  the  preacher. 

It  had  been  the  fashion  with  the  popular  preachers  of 
those  days  to  indulge  in  the  most  fanciful  conceits  and 
tricks  of  rhetoric,  for  the  purpose  of  attracting  and  amus- 
ing their  hearers.  A  sermon  was,  in  their  eyes,  either  a 
light  recreation  or  a  means  of  exercising  their  own  dia- 
lectical subtlety.  To  the  deep  moral  earnestness  of 
Savonarola  all  this  was  horrible  and  revolting  ',  and  it  is 
possible  that  in  shrinking  from  the  use  of  artifice  in  the 
pulpit,  he  may  have  shown  a  disregard  of  those  rules  of 
spoken  composition  which  few  can  afforu  to  neglect. 
None  of  the  early  sermons  have  been  preserved,  so  that 
we  have  no  means  of  judging  of  them.  It  is  very  prob- 
able, however,  that  the  Frate  had  not  yet  found  his  own 
proper  manner  of  address ;  that  the  emotions  which 
were  struggling  within  him  had  hardly  shaped  themselves 


MONASTIC  LIFE  AT  BOLOGNA. 


S7 


into  definite  thoughts,  so  as  to  be  ready  for  articulate 
and  coherent  utterance.  Indeed,  the  testimony  on  the 
subject  is  not  quite  consistent.  We  learn,  for  example, 
that  he  was  ordered  by  his  superiors  to  go  and  preach  at 
Ferrara ;  and  while  we  are  told  that  his  fellow-citizens 
heard  his  preaching  with  great  favor,  he  himself  com- 
plains, in  a  letter  written  to  his  mother  from  Pavia,  eight 
years  after,  that  in  him  was  fulfilled  the  saying :  Ntmo 
propheta  in  patria  sua^  —  "  No  prophet  is  accepted  in 
his  own  country."  *  On  the  occasion  of  this  visit  to  his 
native  town  he  avoided  meeting  any  of  his  old  acquaint- 
ances, and  he  saw  very  little  even  of  his  parents,  for 
fear  of  awakening  sentiments  which  he  wished  to  remain 
forever  dead. 

Although  his  public  teaching  seems  to  have  been  un- 
successful, this  was  not  the  case  either  with  his  private 
instructions  or  his  personal  admonitions.  A  story  is  told 
by  his  biographers  of  the  remarkable  effect  produced  on 
a  number  of  hardened  and  reckless  men  by  his  remon- 
strances. On  a  certain  occasion  he  journeyed  from 
Ferrara  to  Mantua  in  a  boat  alone  with  eighteen  sol- 
diers, who  were  playing  and  using  obscene  language, 
when  he  asked  leave  to  speak  a  few  words  to  them. 
Pico  says  that  he  spoke  to  them  for  the  space  of  half 
an  hour  most  earnestly  on  the  sinfulness  of  their  life ; 
and  both  he  and  Burlamacchi  relate  that,  before  he  had 
ended  his  address,  eleven  of  them  fell  prostrate  at  his 
feet,  confessing  their  great  and  innumerable  sins,  and 
asking  pardon  with  tears  for  the  offences  of  which 
they  had  been  guilty  against  the  Frate  and  against 
God. 

But  a  series  of  events  were  about  to  occur  which 

1  St.  Luke  iv.  24. 


'M  ) 


Jf 


58 


SAVONAROLA. 


were  destined  to  alter  the  whole  course  of  his  life.  In 
the  same  year  in  which  he  had  been  sent  to  preach  in 
his  native  town  (1482),  a  war  broke  out  between  Venice 
and  Ferrara,  which  was  at  first  carried  on  between  these 
two  States,  but  soon  divided  all  Italy  into  two  hos- 
tile factions.  Florence  alone  remained  undisturbed  by 
the  tumult  which  arose,  while  Ferrara  was  its  very  cen- 
tre. It  was  in  many  respects  a  strange  and  curious 
struggle.  Pope  Sixtus,  it  is  said,  had  stirred  up  the 
Venetians  at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  and  there  is  no 
doubt  that  he  was  on  their  side ;  but  he  shortly  after- 
wards came  to  see  that  his  interests  would  be  more  ad- 
vanced by  espousing  the  cause  of  their  enemies.  He 
thereupon  turned  round,  excommunicated  the  Vene- 
tians, and  did  his  utmost  to  inflame  and  keep  alive  the 
strife  he  had  kindled.  With  such  an  ally  on  either  side, 
it  is  not  wonderful  that  the  contending  powers  became 
anxious  to  conclude  a  peace ;  and  this  they  accom- 
plished in  two  years  from  the  beginning  of  the  war, 
1484.  This  was  the  peace  which  proved  the  death  of 
the  Holy  Father.  "You  announce  to  me,"  he  said, 
"  a  peace  of  shame  and  disgrace."  His  grief  and  rage 
brought  on  an  attack  which  carried  him  off  on  the  fol- 
lowing day. 

Savonarola  was  at  Ferrara,  in  the  convent  of  Santa 
Maria  degli  Angeli,  when  the  war  broke  out ;  and  the 
Venetians  having  threatened  to  storm  the  city  and  mas- 
sacre the  inhabitants,  a  number  of  the  brethren  were 
sent  away  and  distributed  among  different  cities  of  Italy. 
Savonarola  was  among  those  who  were  sent  to  the  con- 
vent of  St.  Mark  at  Florence. 

It  was  apparently  with  reluctance  that  he  had  gone  to 
Ferrara,  and  in  a  letter  afterwards  written  to  his  mother, 


MONASTIC  LIFE  AT  BOLOGNA. 


59 


he  points  out  that  it  was  better  he  should  not  remain 
there. 

"  It  is  very  seldom,"  he  says,  "that  a  monk  can  do  his 
best  work  in  his  native  country.  People  have  less  confi- 
dence in  the  counsels  of  a  fellow-citizen  than  in  those  of  a 
stranger.  '  No  prophet  is  accepted  in  his  own  country,' 
said  our  Saviour ;  and  He  was  not  accounted  one  by  His 
own  countrymen.  If  I  wanted  to  do  in  Ferrara  what  I  do 
in  other  cities,  they  would  sr.y,  as  they  said  of  Christ :  '  Is 
not  this  the  Carpenter,  the  sou  of  a  carpenter  and  of  Mary  ?' 

—  so  of  me  :  *  Is  not  this  Master  Girolamo,  who  com- 
mitted such  and  such  sins,  and  who  was  no  better  than  we 
were  ?  We  know  him  well.'  And  they  would  give  no 
heed  to  my  word.  .  .  .  Out  of  my  own  country,"  he  adds, 

—  it  is  a  son  writing  in  all  simplicity  to  a  mother  —  "  it  is 
not  so.  On  the  contrary,  when  I  want  to  leave,  men  and 
women  weep." 

It  was  not  destined  that  the  brother  should  remain  at 
Ferrara ;  and  this  change  in  his  circumstances  v/as  of 
the  greatest  import  as  a  turning-point,  perhaps  the  most 
important,  in  his  life.  He  was  bidding  a  last  farewell  to 
Ferrara  and  to  those  whom  he  loved  so  tenderly,  and 
whom  he  was  never  again  to  see  on  earth.  But  what 
was  the  past  which  he  was  leaving,  compared  with  the 
future  upon  which  he  was  now  entering?  He  might 
continue  to  be  spoken  of  as  Girolamo  of  Ferrara,  but 
henceforth  it  is  as  a  brother  of  St.  Mark's  and  a  citizen 
of  Florence  that  he  belongs  to  the  world  and  to 
history. 

How  much  depends  upon  what  men  call  accidents  ! 
Who  can  tell  what  the  fortune  of  Savonarola  would  have 
been  if  he  had  been  sent  to  some  other  town  of  Italy, 
undisturbed  by  the  steams  which  raged  in  his  new  home  ? 


6o 


SAVONAROLA, 


There  was  not  a  second  Florence ;  and  at  a  distance 
from  this  great  city  he  might  have  been  a  great  teacher, 
preacher,  reformer,  —  he  could  hardly  have  been  insig- 
nificant anywhere,  —  but  his  place  in  history  would  have 
been  altogether  different;  and  so,  indeed,  would  the 
history  of  Italy  itself  have  been,  for  we  may  say,  without 
hesitation,  there  was  no  other  man  of  that  age  who  could 
have  filled  his  place.  If  there  was  no  second  Florence, 
there  was  no  second  Savonarola     ..  •  •         ...•:»()  -r 


.  1,1 


tv 


ill 


-f-^'^' 


THE  BROTHER  OP  ST.  MARK'S. 


6t 


f  -> 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE   BROTHER   OF   ST.    MARK  S. 


The  convent  of  St.  Mark  in  Florence  was  originally 
built  by  a  company  of  Sylvestrine  monks  from  Vallom- 
brosa  at  the  close  of  the  thirteenth  century,  about  the 
same  time  that  the  Palazzo  Vecchio  was  built  for  the 
Signoria.  The  order  of  the  Sylvestrines  had  its  begin- 
ning some  sixty  years  before,  and  came  to  have  as  many 
as  twenty-five  convents  and  three  hundred  brethren; 
but  it  is  now  almost  extinct,  many  of  its  members  hav- 
ing been  absorbed  into  other  societies.  For  a  whole 
century  these  monks  lived  in  their  convent,  honored  by 
the  citizens  of  Florence  for  their  virtues  and  their  work. 
But  the  great  plague  of  Florence,  which  broke  out  in 
1400,  and  which  has  been  so  powerfully  described  by 
Boccaccio  in  the  introduction  to  the  Decameron,  seems 
to  have  produced  the  same  twofold  effects  which  re- 
sulted from  the  plague  at  Athens,  described  by  the  still 
more  powerful  pen  of  Thucydides.  While  some  had 
their  devotion  deepened  and  strengthened,  others  be- 
came reckless,  or  fell  into  thoughtless  and  irreligious 
courses. 

With  the  Sylvestrines  of  St.  Mark's  the  effect  of  the 
plague  was  to  relax  their  discipline  and  to  engender  all 
those  evils  which  flow  from  a  neglect  of  rule.  This 
degeneracy  seems  to  have  gone  on  for  a  whole  genera- 


62 


SAVONAROLA. 


\;r 


tion.  About  the  time  of  the  plague  there  was  a  society 
of  Dominicans  which,  after  several  vicissitudes  of  fortune 
and  of  character,  had  been  settled  at  the  small  convent 
of  San  Georgio,  on  the  south  side  of  the  Arno,  in  the 
San  Miniato  district,  behind  the  Boboli  Gardens.*  This 
Dominican  society  had  undergone  more  than  one  re- 
moval, but  had  been  so  improved  by  the  discipline  that 
it  was  determined  by  the  Pope  and  the  Signoria  that 
they  should  take  possession  of  the  larger  convent  of 
St.  Mark,  and  transfer  their  own  to  the  Sylvestrines. 

When  these  reformed  Dominicans  of  the  Lombard 
congregation  ^  took  possession  of  San  Marco  it  was  in  a 
state  of  the  utmost  dilapidation.  The  dormitory  had 
recently  been  destroyed  by  a  fire,  so  that  the  monks 
were  forced  to  seek  for  shelter  in  wooden  huts.  Cosimo 
de'  Medici,  the  great  founder  of  Medicean  influence  in 
Florence,  undertook  the  restoration  of  the  buildings. 
He  promised  the  monks  ten  thousand  scudi  for  the 
purpose,  but  he  is  said  to  have  spent  as  much  as  thirty- 
six  thousand.  The  work  extended  over  nearly  seven 
years  (143  6- 1443),  and  was  carried  on  under  the  direc- 
tion of  Michelozzo  Michelozzi,  an  architect  of  some 
celebrity.  It  should  be  stated,  however,  that  the  build- 
ings have  since  his  time  been  gready  altered.  The 
church,  for  example,  which  dates  back  as  far  as  1290, 
had  its  facade  reconstructed  by  Pronti  in  1777.  It 
should  be  added  that  Cosimo  —  I*afer  Patrice,  as  he 
was   called,   and   not  altogether  without  reason  —  did 

^  The  gardens  were,  of  course,  still  in  the  future.  In  fact, 
the  Pitti  Palace  is  said  to  have  been  undertaken  in  the  very 
year  of  the  exchange  mentioned  in  the  text,  and  the  building  to 
have  been  commenced  five  or  six  years  later. 

2  It  is  of  some  importance  to  note  their  description. 


I 


M- 


THE  BROTHER  OF  ST.  MARK'S. 


63 


not  rest  contented  with  having  merely  reconstructed 
the  buildings  of  the  convent.  He  resolved  upon  a  more 
difficult  enterprise,  —  to  bestow  upon  the  monks  the 
gift  of  a  valuable  library.  Luckily  for  his  purpose,  there 
had  just  died  Niccolo  Niccoli,  the  most  celebrated 
collector  of  books  and  manuscripts,  and  one  of  the 
most  learned  men  of  that  age.  His  collection,  which 
was  of  great  value,  he  left  to  the  public,  but  burdened 
by  very  heavy  debts.  Cosimo  paid  off  the  debts,  and 
after  retaining  some  valuable  manuscripts  as  his  own, 
he  presented  the  remainder  to  the  convent  of  St.  Mark. 
It  was  the  first  public  library  in  Italy,  and  was 
not  merely  highly  prized  by  the  brethren,  but  was 
the  means  of  stimulating  the  literary  industry  of  the 
society. 

But  the  rebuilding  of  the  monastery  was  only  a  pre- 
paration for  those  nobler  works  of  art  which  are  some  of 
the  most  striking  illustrations  of  the  heavenly  spirit  of  a 
brother  of  the  newly  settled  society,  Fri  Angelico,  or  as 
he  was  then  called,  Frk  Giovanni  da  Fiesole.  It  was 
a  wonderful  era  in  Florentine  art.  Exactly  a  century 
before,  Giotto  had  been  raising  his  matchless  Campanile 
by  the  side  of  the  ancient  Baptistery  of  St.  John.  While 
Frk  Giovanni  was  covering  the  walls  of  San  Marco  with 
the  fruits  of  his  devotion,  Brunelleschi  was  planning 
and  carrying  out  the  execution  of  that  glorious  dome, 
the  admiration  and  perhaps  the  inspiration  of  Michael 
Angelo,^  which  was  to  soar  aloft  and  dominate  the  whole 
city,  rising  a  hundred  feet  higher  even  than  Giotto's 
tower.      Of   these   charming   frescos  we   can    say  but 

1  Michael  Angelo's  reply  is  well  known,  when  he  was  told 
that  he  was  about  to  erect  for  St  Peter's  at  Rome  a  finer  dome 
than  Brunelleschi's.    "  Piu  grande,"  he  said,  "  ma  non  piii  bello." 


•I 


H 


SAVONAROLA, 


little  here.  No  one  who  has  seen  them  in  their  marvel- 
lous freshness  on  the  walls  of  St.  Mark's  is  likely  to  for- 
get them.  Untravelled  Englishmen  may  study  them  in 
the  admirable  copies  of  the  Arundel  Society ;  and  we 
may  well  believe  that  they  often  kindled  the  pious 
imagination  and  soothed  the  troubled  heart  of  the  new 
friar. 

Fri  Angelico's  is  not  the  only  great  name  connected 
with  San  Marco.  There  was  another,  which  in  those 
days,  at  least,  was  held  in  still  greater  esteem,  that  of 
Antonino,  "  one  of  those  characters  which  do  real  honor 
to  the  human  race."  *  He  was  the  creator  of  many  be- 
neficent institutions  in  Florence  ;  and  he  renovated  and 
reorganized  many  others.  It  was  he  who  converted  the 
society  of  the  Bigallo,  founded  by  Saint  Peter  Martyr  for 
the  extermination  of  heretics,  into  a  charitable  institution. 
Instead  of  carrying  on  the  bloody  work  of  the  Inquisi- 
tion, the  brethren  now  devoted  themselves  to  the  care 
of  orphan  children.  He  was  also  the  founder  of  the 
"  Good  Men  of  Saint  Martin  "  {Btiou^  Uomini  di  San 
Martino),  who  collected  alms  for  the  relief  of  the  de- 
serving and  shamefaced  poor  {poveri  vergognosi)  at 
their  own  houses.  His  self-denial  was  equal  to  his  warm 
love  for  God  and  man  and  his  active  charity  on  behalf 
of  the  suffering  and  needy.  He  died  in  1459,  lamented 
as  a  public  loss  by  all  Florence ;  and  Savonarola  found 
his  name  revered,  and  his  life  held  up  as  the  highest 
example  for  the  imitation  of  the  brotherhood,  when  he 
arrived  in  Florence  in  1482. 

When  Savonarola  came  to  Florence  he  often  heard 
the  brethren  of  San  Marco  extolling  the  piety  of  Sant' 
Antonino ;  but  it  was  not  long  before  he  discovered  that 

1  Villari. 


THE  BROTHER  OF  ST.   Af ARK'S. 


6S 


their  admiration  did  not  involve  the  purpose  of  imita- 
tion. His  was  more  a  name  to  boast  of  than  an  ideal 
to  reach  after.  In  this  convent,  too,  all  was  worldliness 
and  irreligion.  The  immorality  of  the  people  had  as- 
sumed a  more  refined  form  under  the  influence  of  the 
prophets  of  the  Renaissance.  In  this  mediaeval  Athens 
there  was  little  that  seemed  coarse  and  outwardly  repul- 
sive ;  but  its  polished  cynicism,  its  refined  sensuality,  its 
utter  heartlessness  and  unbelief  were,  if  possible,  more 
disgusting  to  the  serious,  earnest  spirit  of  Savonarola  than 
evil  more  coarse  and  less  disguised  would  have  been. 
The  "  religious  "  were  hardly  different  from  the  men  of 
the  world.  Religion  was  the  thing  they  cared  for  least ; 
even  theology  had  little  interest  for  them.  We  can  im- 
agine with  what  bitter  grief  and  disappointment  Savo- 
narola beheld  the  eager  interest  manifested  in  Plato  and 
Aristotle,  and  the  utter  neglect  of  Saint  Thomas  and  even 
of  Saint  Paul. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  Fri  Girolamo  had  no 
personal  reason  for  mortification.  His  reputation  had 
gone  before  him,  and  he  had  hardly  entered  the  new 
brotherhood  when  the  prior,  Vincenzo  Badella,  appointed 
him  to  the  same  post  which  he  had  held  at  Bologna, 
that  of  Lettore^  or  instructor  of  the  novices  ;  and  he  dis- 
charged the  duties  of  his  office  with  great  success  for 
the  four  years  of  his  first  residence  at  Florence  (1482- 
1486).  It  was  probably  for  this  reason  that  he  was  ap- 
pointed in  the  year  1483  to  preach  the  Lent  sermons  at 
St.  Lorenzo ;  but  here,  as  in  his  former  attempts,  he  met 
with  no  success.  It  is  said  that  only  five  and  twenty 
persons  could  be  induced  to  listen  to  his  sermons ;  and 
this  at  a  time  when  thv  church  of  Santo  Spirito  was 
crowded  by  multitudes  who  listened  eagerly  to  a  rival 


.■iLm-JiiLUi'SS- 


■'-w^T^fyr'w^Ti.t^ 


66 


SAVONAROLA. 


I 


preacher,  a  favorite  of  the  Medici,  named  Mariano  da 
Gennazzano. 

The  reasons  for  Savonarola's  failure  are  to  be  found 
both  in  his  subjects  and  in  his  manner.  The  topics  on 
which  alone  he  cared  to  preach  were  connected  with 
those:  subjects  in  which  his  hearers  took  no  interest. 
The  Frate  was  in  deadly  earresf,  whilst  the  Florentines 
had  lost  all  depth  and  seriousness  of  thought.  He  had 
started  on  a  crusade  against  sin  and  unbelief  in  all  their 
forms,  burning  with  an  unquenchable  love  of  God  and 
an  iri'epressible  zeal  for  the  salvation  of  souls.  To  them, 
for  th'i  time  at  least,*  sin  and  holiness,  condemnation  and 
solvation,  were  become  almost  unintelligible  expressions. 

It  would  hardly  be  possible  to  give  a  more  clear  and 
intelligible  idea  of  the  contrast  than  that  which  is  set 
forth  by  contemporaries  respecting  the  preaching  of 
Savonarola  on  the  one  hand,  and  this  Mariano  da  Gen- 
nazzano  on  the  other.* 

Benivieni,  in  a  letter  written  long  afterwards  to  Pope 
Clement  VII.,  the  natural  son  of  the  murdered  Giuliano 
de'  Medici,  in  defence  of  Savonarola's  teaching,  relates 
that  on  one  occasion  he  said  to  the  Frate,  "  Father,  it 
cannot  be  denied  that  your  doctrine  is  true,  useful,  and 
necessary ;  but  your  manner  of  expression  is  wanting  in 
grace,  especially  as  this  admirable  Fra  Mariano  is  here 
every  day."  Savonarola  replied,  "This  elegance  of  lan- 
guage must  be  allowed  to  give  way  before  the  simplicity 
of  preaching  sound  doctrine."  There  is  no  doubt  that 
Savonarola's  preaching  was  at  that  time  defective  in  va- 
rious respects.  His  voice  is  said  to  have  been  weak, 
his  intonation  bad,  his  action  awkward,  his  pronuncia- 
tion wanting  in  refinement,  his  style  heavy.    Oppressed 

1  For  this  I  am  indebted  to  Villari. 


THE  BROTHER  OP  ST.  MARK'S, 


67 


by  the  weight  of  his  matter,  he  probably  neglected  the 
order  and  method  v^ithout  which  it  is  almost  impossible 
to  convey  effectively  and  impressively  one's  thoughts  in 
public  speaking.  But  there  were  other  reasons  to  be 
found  in  the  utter  corruption  of  the  public  taste,  in  the 
false  notions  almost  universally  prevailing  on  the  mission 
and  work  of  the  Christian  preacher. 

A  better  proof  of  this  statement  could  hardly  be 
adduced  than  that  which  is  found  in  the  judgment 
pronounced  on  the  preaching  of  Fri  Mariano  by  a  critic 
no  less  competent  than  Politian.  His  commendations 
of  this  preacher,  as  Villari  remarks,  form  the  best  illus- 
tration of  his  own  defects  and  those  of  the  admiring 
audience  in  general.  "  I  went,"  he  says,  "  rather  preju- 
diced against  him,  for  the  loud  applause  had  made  me 
distrustful.  I  had  hardly,  however,  entered  the  church, 
when  the  dress,  the  countenance,  the  figure,  changed 
my  mind,  and  I  instantly  desired  and  expected  some- 
thing great.  I  confess  that  sometimes  in  the  pulpit  he 
seemed  to  grow  to  a  superhuman  stature.  He  began  to 
speak.  I  am  all  ears  [mark]  at  his  melodious  voice, 
his  well-chosen  words,  his  sonorous  sentences.  Then  I 
remark  the  divisions,  I  observe  the  periods,  I  am  domi- 
nated by  the  harmonious  cadence,"  and  so  forth.  This 
was  the  judgment  of  a  man  of  great  learning  and  of  the 
most  refined  taste.  What,  then,  must  have  been  the 
opinion  and  sentiments  of  the  masses  ?  It  can  hardly 
be  surprising  that  the  rough  prophetic  utterances  of  Fra 
Girolamo  failed  at  first  to  gain  the  ears  ^  which  sought 

1  Burlamacchi  says  that  his  failure  seemed  then  so  complete 
that  he  thought  of  giving  up  preaching,  and  keeping  to  the  expo- 
sition of  Scripture ;  that  he  was  advised  to  do  this,  and  actually 
announced  publicly  his  intention  of  doing  so. 


w 


68 


SAVONAROLA. 


for  gratification  in  elegant  language,  apt  quotation,  clas- 
sical allusions,  graceful  gestures,  —  in  oratory  which  was 
intended  merely  to  charm,  sometimes  to  amuse,  but 
which  v/as  never  animated  by  any  m  >«re  lofty  purpose. 

Brooding  on  the  evils  of  the  ag'.,  striving  with  all  his 
might  to  deliver  his  testimony  for  God  and  for  righteous- 
ness, preparing  himself  by  long  vigils,  fasts,  prayers, 
Savonarola  found  that  his  was  indeed  a  voice  "  crying  in 
the  wilderness ;  "  and  he  must  often  have  asked  whether 
some  clearer  and  higher  guidance  might  not  be  vouch- 
safed from  on  high  to  one  who  so  truly  desired  and 
labored  to  win  back  this  people  to  Christ.  In  two  things 
he  never  wavered,  —  in  his  faith  in  God,  and  in  his  con- 
sciousness of  a  divine  mission.  He  knew  the  righteous- 
ness of  God  and  the  love  of  God.  He  was  sure  that 
such  a  Being  could  not  look  with  complacency  upon  the 
corruptions  of  Florence,  of  Italy,  of  the  world  and  the 
Church.  It  must  be  His  will  not  to  destroy  these  erring 
children,  but  to  bring  them  back  to  Himself,  —  to  bring 
them  back  by  loving  and  gentle  ways,  if  that  could 
be  done ;  if  otherwise,  by  chastisements  and  suffer- 
ings. And  what  was  his  own  part  in  this  work,  and 
how  could  he  accomplish  it?  If  he  alone  were  left  of 
the  prophets  of  the  Lord,  he  must  not  shrink  from  his 
mission. 

Then  he  turned  to  the  Bible,  which  was  now,  more 
and  more,  his  constant,  almost  his  exclusive  companion, 
and  he  found  in  the  condition  of  Israel  of  old  a  picture 
of  that  which  was  passing  around  him  in  the  Christian 
Church,  and  in  the  voices  of  the  prophets  those  very 
warnings  which  were  forming  themselves  within  his  own 
heart  and  striving  for  utterance  on  his  tongue.  If  God 
spoke  to  His  servants  thtu,  why  should  He  not  speak 


THE  BROTHER  OP  ST.  MARK'S. 


<9 


now?  The  need  could  never  have  been  greater,  more 
urgent ;  the  perplexities  of  the  ago  could  never  have 
been  more  involved.  What  could  man  do  in  such  a 
case?    Must  not  God  speak? 

At  last  the  vision  came.  One  day  the  heavens  seemed 
to  open  before  him,  and  there  appeared  a  representation 
of  the  future  calamities  of  the  Church.  At  the  same 
time  a  voice  was  heard  commanding  him  to  go  and 
proclaim  these  things  to  the  people.  At  last  he  had 
obtained  the  guidance  for  which  he  had  been  waiting, 
the  command  which  he  had  no  right  and  no  power  to 
disobey.  He  had  seen  a  vision  which  told  him  that 
the  Church  was  to  be  chastised  and  reformed,  and  he 
was  ready  to  go  forth,  like  the  Baptist  of  old,  and  cry, 
*'  Repent,  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  is  at  hand  ! " 
"Now  also"  —  the  words  seem  to  express  exactly  what 
was  passing  in  his  mind,  what  he  believed  he  was  re- 
ceiving from  God  — "  the  axe  is  laid  unto  the  root  of 
the  trees  :  therefore  every  tree  which  bringeth  not  forth 
good  fruit  is  hewn  down,  and  cast  into  the  fire." 

This  was  in  the  year  1484.  It  must  almost  have 
seemed  as  though  Divine  Providence  were  preparing 
for  a  change  in  the  state  of  the  Church  ;  for  in  this  very 
year  Sixtus  IV.  died.  Surely  there  must  be  a  change  for 
the  better.  We  have  already  heard  what  the  change  was. 
Sixtus  was  succeeded  by  Innocent  VIII.  The  hopes 
that  were  excited  by  the  death  of  his  predecessor  were 
now  abandoned.  The  Papacy,  at  least,  would  give  no 
help  in  the  reformation  of  the  Church. 

Whether  because  of  his  failure  in  Florence,  or  for 
some  other  reason,  Savonj^rola  was  sent  on  the  two 
following  Lents  (1484  and  1485)  to  preach  at  San 
Geminiano,  a  small  town  in  the  mountains  of  Siena. 


.-^ 


i    ;• 


70 


SAVONAROLA. 


In  those  days  a  place  of  greater  importance  than  at 
present,  San  Geminiano  was  found  to  contain  a  popu- 
lation more  open  to  impressions  such  as  Savonarola 
wished  to  produce.  It  may  have  been  for  this  reason 
in  part,  but  doubtless  also,  and  far  more,  in  consequence 
of  the  new  convictions  which  had  been  wrought  within 
him,  that  he  now  began  to  announce,  as  with  prophetic 
voice,  the  three  points  which  were  henceforth  to  be  the 
great  subject  of  his  preaching.  That  he  did  already 
believe  them  to  be  the  subject  of  revelation  to  his  own 
spirit,  there  can  be  no  doubt ;  although  for  the  jDresent 
he  was  contented  to  declare  them  as  deductions  from 
the  Bible,  regarding  his  hearers  as  not  yet  ready  to  re- 
ceive them  as  the  echoes  of  the  voice  of  God.  The 
three  statements  which  he  now  for  the  first  time  clearly 
set  forth  were  the  following  :  — 

1.  That  the  Church  will  be  scourged, 

2.  And  then  renovated ; 

3.  And  this  will  be  soon.^ 

It  appears  that  he  obtained  a  hearing  from  these 
mountaineers  which  had  not  hitherto  been  accorded 
to  him ;  and  when  he  returned  to  Florence,  it  was 
with  the  conviction  deepened  that  he  was  now  walk- 
ing in  the  path  marked  out  for  him  by  the  provi- 
dence and  grace  of  God. 

But  his  first  period  of  residence  at  Florence  was 
drawing  to  a  close,  and  he  was  now  to  leave  it  for 
four  years.  These  four  years  form  a  very  obscure  part 
of  his  history ;  but  we  can  trace  his  life  and  his  work 
at  various  points  during  that  period  of  time.  Of  his 
thoughts  at  this  time  we  know  little ;  only  we  are  sure 
that  a  great  part  of  his  solitary  hours   was   spent  in 

^  La  Chiesa  sar4  flagellata,  e  poi  rinnovata ;  e  ci6  sar^  presto. 


Ir 


THE  BROTHER  OF  ST.  MARK'S. 


71 


was 


meditating  upon  the  evils  of  the  age  and  upon  the 
work  which  it  was  given  him  to  perform  ;  and  we  know 
that  this  consciousness  of  his  work  was  ever  and  anon 
breaking  out  in  his  public  utterances. 

It  is  at  Brescia  that  we  first  meet  with  him  (i486), 
and  now  expounding  the  Apocalypse.  From  this  time 
we  must  date  his  plain  and  open  announcement  of 
the  evils  coming  upon  Italy,  and  the  powerful  effects 
of  his  words.  Visions  now  seem  to  multiply,  and  he 
is  no  longer,  in  his  own  consciousness  at  least,  a  mere 
expositor  of  the  written  word;  he  is,  in  some  sense, 
a  prophet  sent  by  God,  proclaiming  his  warnings  and 
counsels  with  the  tone  of  one  who  can  say,  "  Thus 
saith  the  Lord." 

It  may  be  expected  that  something  should  be  said 
on  the  nature  of  these  visions  and  revelations;  but 
history  refuses  to  give  a  decisive  explanation  of  ques- 
tions like  these.  Who  can  tell  when  a  gracious  illu- 
mination passes  into  a  supernatural  guidance?  Who 
can  tell  when  the  perception  of  the  thoughts  and  des- 
tinies of  men  arises  from  a  devout  meditation  on  Holy 
Scripture  and  an  earnest  contemplation  of  the  ways 
and  works  of  men  and  of  nations,  and  when  it  is 
given  by  direct  revelation  from  God?  How  uncertain 
the  Frate  himself  felt  about  this  line  of  division  we 
shall  have  occasion  to  see  hereafter.  It  may  here  be 
said,  once  for  all,  that  we  make  no  pretension  to  solve 
these  mysteries.  Of  one  thing  only  we  are  sure,  that 
Savonarola  was  profoundly  convinced  of  the  reality  of 
his  visions,  that  he  believed  he  was  speaking  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  that  he  was  prepared  to  suffer  even 
death  itself  in  vindication  of  his  testimony,  and  that, 
l)efore  long,  he  saw  clearly  enough  that  this  was  the 


72 


SAVONAROLA. 


\    .1 

Mi 


i* 


probable  end  of  the  work  to  which  he  felt  himself 
called. 

At  Brescia,  as  we  have  said,  he  began  to  expound 
the  Apocalypse,  and  this  with  special  reference  to 
Brescia  itself.  One  of  the  four  and  twenty  elders 
mentioned  in  that  book,  he  declared,^  had  come  to 
him,  and  had  foretold  the  terrible  calamities  that  were 
in  store  for  this  city.  It  was  to  become  a  prey  to  its 
enemies ;  wives  were  to  be  snatched  away  from  their 
husbands,  and  virgins  were  to  be  violated ;  children 
would  be  slain  before  the  eyes  of  their  mothers,  and 
the  streets  would  flow  with  blood.  His  words  were 
not  forgotten ;  and  when,  six  and  twenty  years  after- 
wards, the  city  was  sacked  by  the  soldiers  of  Gaston 
de  Foix,  and  six  thousand  of  its  inhabitants  perished, 
it  was  believed  by  many  that  tne  prophecy  of  Fra 
Girolamo  was  being  fulfilled. 

From  this  time  he  seemed  to  be  assured,  not  only 
of  his  mission,  but  of  the  divine  communications  which 
he  received  respecting  the  future  of  the  Church.  He 
told  his  friend  and  biographer,  the  younger  Pico  della 
Mirandola,  that  on  one  occasion,  while  meditating  on 
the  text,  Bonus  es  Tu,  ei  in  bonitate  Tiia  doce  me  justi' 
ficationes  2uas,  —  "  Blessed  art  Thou,  O  Lord  :  teach 
me  Thy  statutes,"  ^  he  felt  his  mind  illuminated,  and 
all  doubts  left  him,  and  he  felt  more  certainty  of  the 
things  that  were  shown  to  him  than  a  philosopher  did 
of  first  principles.' 

1  Burlamacchi  states  that  this  was  related  to  the  brethren  of 
St.  Mark's  in  1520  by  the  Prior  of  Brescia,  who  had  heard  the 
sermon  in  which  Savonarola  announced  these  future  calamities. 

2  Ps.  cxix.  12. 

3  Burlamacchi,  p.  22. 


*i^ 


THE  BROTHER  OF  ST.  MARK'S. 


73 


It  was  not  Savonarola  alone  who  received  these  con- 
victions during  his  residence  at  Brescia.  Razzi  relates 
that  a  lady  wrote  to  the  Frate,  announcing  that  she 
had  received  a  revelation  of  his  future  history ;  but  he, 
regarding  her  communication  as  a  device  of  the  devil, 
threv/  the  letter  into  the  nre.  It  is  further  related  by 
his  biographers^  that,  on  Christmas  Eve  in  this  year, 
he  remained  immovable  for  five  hours,  in  an  ecstasy, 
and  that  his  face  shone  so  as  to  illuminate  the  whole 
church ;   and  this,  it  is  said,  occurred  several  times. 

Shortly  afterwards  we  find  him  at  Reggio,  still  ab- 
sorbed in  those  great  thoughts  of  the  reformation  and 
renovation  of  the  Church  and  the  world.  A  chapter 
of  Dominicans  was  assembled  for  the  consideration  of 
questions  of  theology  and  of  discipline.  While  points 
of  casuistry  were  being  discussed,  Savonarola  sat  silent 
and,  as  it  seemed,  wrapped  in  his  own  meditations,  his 
monk's  cowl  drawn  over  his  wrinkled  forehead.  In 
mere  theoretical  disputations  which  tended  to  foster 
curiosity  and  dialectical  subtlety,  he  took  no  interest. 
When,  however,  they  turned  to  the  question  of  manners 
and  discipline,  then  the  prophet  of  Brescia  arose,  and 
in  the  midst  of  the  assembled  clergy  and  laity  who  had 
come  to  take  part  in  the  deliberations  of  the  meeting, 
he  spoke  those  words  which  had  already  moved  the 
hearts  of  men  when  uttered  from  the  pulpit.  It  was 
like  a  thunderbolt  falling  in  the  midst  of  them,  and 
they  sat  as  though  transfixed  with  astonishment.  He 
spoke  of  the  evils  of  the  Church,  but  still  more  earnestly 
of  the  fearful  corruption  of  the  clergy  as  the  fountain 
frcm  which  those  evils  flowed.     Clergy  and  laity  were 

1  On  the  testimony  of  a  brother,  called  by  some  Sebastiano, 
by  others  Angelo. 


r  , : 


r.'Pii 


I' 

\l:  1 


74 


SAVONAROLA. 


alike  impressed  by  his  words.  Tiie  fame  of  his  power 
spread  throughout  Northern  Italy,  and  many  princes  and 
others,  who  had  begun  to  see  the  necessity  for  reform, 
entered  into  correspondence  with  the  man  who  had 
given  such  distinct  and  powerful  utterance  to  their  own 
reflections. 

Among  the  laymen  who  were  present  at  the  confer- 
ence was  one  who  bore  a  distinguished  name,  whose 
friendship  was  on'^e  and  f,  re'er  secured  for  the  Frete  by 
the  impressir^is  vv  v;h  '  re^  received  fron.  his  words. 
This  was  tne  eMer  Pico  lella  Mirandola,  the  intimate 
friend  of  Lorenzo  -x'  Mtdi'^i,  then  only  twenty-thiee 
years  of  age.  Savonarola,  ii  w-U  be  remembered,  was 
thirty-four,  and  Lorenzo  four  years  older,  —  thirty-eight. 
This  Giovanni  Pico  della  Mirandola  was  the  uncle  of 
that  Giovanni  Francesco  Pico  della  Mirandola  who  was 
afterwards  the  friend  and  subsequently  the  biographer  of 
Savonarola. 

It  was  indeed  a  remarkable  conquest  in  many  ways. 
It  was,  so  to  speak,  the  first  point  at  which  the  Frate 
had  touched  the  men  of  the  new  learning.  It  was  a 
vie  :ory  where  one  could  be  least  expected.  Pico  was 
ore  of  the  most  refined  and  cultivated  men  of  his  age, 
one  of  those  who  took  the  greatest  delight  in  the  intel- 
lectual subtleties  which  Savonarola  had  already  learnt 
to  despise.  He  did  not  despise  them  because  he  had 
a  mind  incapable  of  discerning  them.  Perhaps  it  was 
the  sense  of  their  attraction  for  him,  together  with  his 
conviction  of  their  utter  worthlessness,  that  mads  him 
turn  from  them  almost  with  indignation.  What  things 
had  been  gain  to  him,  these  he  now  "  counted  loss  for 
Christ." 

It  was  perhaps  the  sense  of  these  twofold  elements 


THE  BROTHER  OP  ST.  MARK'S. 


75 


in  his  spirit  that  was  the  secret  of  the  fascination  he 
immediately  exercised  over  Pico.  This  illustrious  man, 
even  in  his  youth  —  and  he  did  not  live  to  be  an  old 
man  —  was  reclwoned  the  marv:;!  of  his  age.  His 
knowledge  of  Litin  was  not  perhaps  wonderful :  it  was 
the  literarv  language  of  his  tin  :  and  of  his  country. 
Grec^^  too,  had  begun  to  be  extensively  and  profoundly 
studied.  It  is  said  that  he  knew  both  languages  as  well 
IS  hi«  own.  Buc  he  had  also  studied  Oriental  languages 
with  success,  — •  a  much  more  rare  accomplishment ;  and 
he  was  an  expert  logician  and  a  well-read  philosopher. 
It  is  hkely  enough  that  the  charge  of  shallowness  which 
was  brought  against  him  was  well  founded.  Few  men 
can  play  the  part  of  an  Admirable  Crichton  without 
some  compensating  disadvantages.  Still,  he  was  a  man 
of  prodigious  attainments,  of  an  unresting  activity,  wis!; 
a  memory  the  most  retentive ;  adding  to  all  a  simplicity 
and  unworldliness  which  were  rare  among  scholars,  nt  1 
a  grace  and  vivacity  which  attracted  and  fascinated  every 
one  who  came  within  the  sphere  of  his  influence. 

This  was  the  man,  distinguished  beyond  all  who  were 
present  at  this  conference,  into  whose  heart  the  words 
of  Savonarola  now  fell  with  an  irresistible  power.  From 
that  moment  Pico  "  felt,"  says  Burlamacchi,  '  as  if  he 
could  not  live  without  him ;  "  and  it  appears  he  lost  no 
time  in  giving  effect  to  his  new  sentiments,  for  he  shortly 
after  sought  to  induce  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  to  have  the 
Frate  recalled  to  Florence  and  San  Marco.  This  re- 
quest of  Pico,  the  same  writer  tells  us,  Lorenzo  imme- 
diately complied  with,  because  "  he  was  much  loved  by 
him."  The  feelings  now  engendered  in  the  heart  of 
Pico  towards  his  new  friend  were  never  extinguished. 
It  was  only  his  premature  death,  as  we  '-hall  see  in  the 


!Vl 


il 


11 


'il' 


til 


t" 


I* 


SAVONAROLA. 


sequel  of  our  narrative,  that  prevented  his  entering  the 
Dominican  convent ;  and  it  was  his  last  request  that  he 
might  be  buried  within  its  walls,  in  the  habit  of  the 
order. 

Savonarola  did  not  return  to  Florence  for  three  years 
after  this  meeting.  He  had  still  work  to  do  in  Lom- 
bardy.  His  course  we  are  able  to  trace  only  somewhat 
indistinctly.  In  July,  1489,  we  find  him  in  his  first 
convent  at  Bologna,  where  they  wish  him  to  undertake 
his  old  office  of  Lettore.  On  Christmas  Day,  in  the 
same  year,  he  is  again  at  Brescia.  In  the  following 
January  he  is  at  Pavia;  and  he  preached  the  Lent 
sermons  at  Genoa  shortly  afterwards.  These  bare  facts 
have  been  recently  made  out,  but  nothing  more  is 
known  of  his  work  or  its  effect.  As  we  were  told  that 
when  he  left  Ferrara  for  Florence,  eight  years  before,  he 
then  bid  a  last  farewell  to  his  home,  we  may  infer  that 
he  did  not  renew  his  intercourse  with  his  family  during 
these  journeys.  It  was  not  that  he  forgot  his  parents  or 
was  destitute  of  natural  affection.  Before  he  left  Pavia, 
on  the  25th  of  January,  1490,  he  wrote  a  long  and  affec- 
tionate letter  to  his  mother,  regretting  that  his  religious 
profession  prevented  his  helping  them  in  future  other- 
wise than  by  his  prayers.  Although  he  could  no  longer 
see  them  face  to  face,  he  told  them  that  he  sympathized 
with  them  in  all  their  joys  and  sorrows  ;  but  he  had  for- 
ever renounced  the  world,  and  given  himself  to  labor  in 
the  vineyard  of  the  Lord,  for  the  salvation  of  his  own 
soul  and  the  souls  of  others.  If  God  had  given  him 
this  power,  it  must  be  his  duty  to  use  it ;  and  since  he 
was  chosen  to  this  holy  office,  his  mother  must  be  con- 
tented to  see  him  exercise  it  away  from  his  native  place, 
because  he  would  have  more  fruit  elsewhere  than  at 


^\l 


s 


THE  BROTHER  OF  ST.  MARK'S, 


77 


Ferrara.  And  then  he  uses  the  language  already  quoted. 
"Be  assured,"  he  concludes,  "that  my  heart  is  still 
more  firm  in  its  purpose  to  give  up  all  for  the  love  of 
God  and  the  salvation  of  my  neighbors ;  and  since  I 
could  not  do  this  in  my  own  native  place,  I  must  do  it 
elsewhere."  He  had  "forsaken  all  "  and  taken  up  his 
cross,  and  he  would  not  lay  it  down  for  a  moment. 

Although  it  is  distinctly  stated  by  his  biographers  that 
Lorenzo  de'  Medici  did,  in  accordance  with  the  request 
of  Pico,  at  once  invite  Savona-ola  to  return  to  Florence, 
some  doubts  have  been  suggested  on  the  subject  by 
M.  Perrens,  on  the  ground  that  he  did  not  receive  a 
call  from  the  Prior  of  San  Marco  until  July,  1489,  and 
did  not  actually  return  to  Florence  until  August,  1490. 
Such  a  theory,  entirely  unsupported  by  testimony,  would 
need  stronger  arguments  to  render  it  credible.  It  is 
possible  that  the  invitation  of  Lorenzo,  who  on  account 
of  his  father's  and  his  own  munificence  to  the  convent 
regarded  himself  as  almost  its  proprietor,  or  at  least  its 
patron,  may  have  seemed  to  Savonarola  no  sufficient 
reason  for  a  monk's  adopting  a  particular  society  as  his 
own.  Even  if  at  that  time  the  prior  joined  in  the  invi- 
tation, Savonarola  may  have  formed  engagements  which 
required  his  continued  residence  in  Lombardy.  What- 
ever the  reason  rnay  have  been,  we  find  he  did  not 
return  to  Florence  until  a  whole  year  after  the  prior  had 
invited  him  to  do  so. 

Bi^«-  Perrens  adds  a  suggestion  still  more  improbable. 
Lorenzo,  he  thinks,  had  refused  to  comply  with  Picons 
request  because  he  did  not  wish  to  have  the  Frate  in 
Florence  again ;  and  Savonarola  resented  his  back- 
wardness. This,  he  imagines,  was  the  beginning  of  his 
antipathy  to  the  Magnificent !     Such  a  theory  is  quite 


i" 


Jmm 


m» 


78 


SAVONAROLA. 


I 
I 


i 


inconsistent  with  the  whole  facts  of  the  case,  and  it  is 
inconsistent  with  the  view  which  the  French  biographer 
himself  gives  of  the  character  and  conduct  of  Savonarola. 
Lorenzo  never  siiowed  the  slightest  disposition  to  keep 
Savonarola  at  a  distance.  The  Frate,  in  shunning  all 
intercourse  with  the  Medici,  was  only  acting  as  the  boy 
had  done  at  Ferrara.  The  disciple  of  Him  who  was 
"  not  of  the  world,"  and  who  told  His  disciples  that 
they  were  not  of  the  world,  stood  in  need  of  no  personal 
affront  to  make  him  careful  to  avoid  the  appearance  of 
the  slightest  compliance  with  the  most  refined  and 
inveterate  worldliness  which  perhaps  Christendom  had 
ever  seen. 

It  is  related  that  he  accomplished  the  journey  from 
Genoa  to  Florence  on  foot,  but  that  his  strength  was 
unequal  to  the  journey,  and  failed  him  near  Bologna. 
From  that  point,  it  is  told,  he  received  supernatural 
assistance,  which  was  continued  to  him  until  he  came 
to  the  gate  of  San  Gallo.  Be  this  as  it  may,  he  reached 
Florence  in  the  year  1490,  and  from  this  point  we  are 
able  to  trace  his  history  continuously  and  without  inter- 
ruption to  its  close.  We  must  now  make  a  brief  pause, 
and  try  to  understand  his  position  and  circumstances 
in  this  new  and  most  important  stage  of  his  career. 


FLORENCE  AND   THE  AfEDlCI, 


79 


CHAFFER  V. 


FLORENCE  AND  THE   MEDICI. 


There  are  names  which  carry  with  them  something 
of  a  charm.  We  have  but  to  say  "  Athens  !  "  and  all 
the  great  deeds  of  antiquity  break  upon  our  hearts  like 
a  sudden  gleam  of  sunshine ;  "  Florence  ! "  and  the 
magnificence  and  passionate  agitation  of  Italy's  prime 
sends  forth  its  fragrance  towards  us  like  blossom-laden 
boughs,  from  whose  dusky  shadows  we  catch  whispers 
of  the  beautiful  tongue. 

Athens  was  the  first  city  of  Greece,  —  rich,  powerful, 
with  a  policy  which  extended  almost  over  the  entire 
world  of  that  age.  Florence,  however,  in  her  fairest 
days,  was  never  the  first  city  of  Italy,  and  in  no  respect 
possessed  extraordinary  advantages.  She  does  not  lie 
on  the  sea,  and  the  Arno  has  never  been  navigable. 
The  situation  of  Naples  is  more  beautiful,  that  of  Genoa 
more  royal,  Rome  is  richer  in  treasures  of  art,  Venice 
possessed  a  greater  political  power;  and  yet,  notwith- 
standing, all  that  happened  in  Italy  between  1250  and 
1530  is  colorless  when  placed  side  by  side  with  the 
history  of  this  one  city.  Her  internal  life  surpasses  in 
splendor  the  efforts  of  the  others  at  home  and  abroad. 
The  events  thro  igh  the  intricacies  of  which  she  worked 
her  way  with  vigorous  determination,  and  the  men  whom 
she  produced,  raisL  her  fame  above  that  of  the  whole 


v- 


t 


i'  H 


80 


SAVONAROLA. 


of  Italy,  and  place  Florence  as  a  younger  sister  by  the 
side  of  Athens.* 

The  origin  of  Florence  is  lost  in  obscurity,  and  its 
early  history  is  mingled  with  fable.''  Machiavelli,  fol- 
lowing Dante  and  Villani,  tells  us  that  the  city  of  Fiesole, 
being  situ-ted  on  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  the  in- 
habitants, in  order  to  make  its  markets  more  convenient, 
had  removed  them  to  the  spot  between  the  roots  of  the 
mountain  and  the  river  Arno.  By  degrees  this  settle- 
ment, which  is  said  to  have  originally  borne  the  name 
of  Villa  Arnina  or  Camarzo,  was  greatly  augmented,  — 
among  others  by  the  soldiers  of  Sulla,  and  afterwards  by 
those  of  Csesai,  who  were  stationed  there. 

The  origin  of  lis  name,  Florentia,  —  afterwards  and 
still  called  Firenze  —  has  been  disputed  ;  some  thinking 
that  it  was  originally  Flucntia,  others  that  it  was  derived 
from  the  fact  that  the  valley  in  which  the  city  stands  is 
richly  covered  with  flowers.  It  would  appear  at  least 
that  the  Florentines  themselves  inclined  to  this  opinion, 
since  they  gave  their  cathedral  church  the  name  of 
Santa  Maria  del  Fiore.  The  lily,  too,  is  painted  on  the 
shield  of  the  republic  and  on  the  banner  of  Santa 
Reparata,  the  patron  saint  of  Florence,  who  gave  its 
name  to  the  church  which  formerly  stood  on  the  site 
of  the  cathedral. 

Cicero  and  Sallust  both  speak  of  the  wealth  of  the 
Florentines ;  and  Tacitus  relates  that  in  the  reign  of 

1  These  paragraphs  are  condensed  from  chap.  i.  of  Grimm's 
Life  of  Michael  Angelo. 

2  On  the  general  subject  of  this  chapter  see  Machiavelli,  Istorie 
Florentine  ;  Sismondi,  Republiq\'es  Italiennes  ;  and  G.  Capponi, 
Storia  della  Repubblica  di  Firenze.  A  very  full  account  is  given 
in  the  Misses  Horner's  Walks  in  Florence 


FLORENCE  AND   THE  MEDICI. 


8l 


the  Emperor  Tiberius  (a.  d.  i  7)  a  Florentine  embassy 
came  to  Rome  to  petition  the  Senate  that  the  waters 
of  the  Chiana  —  Tacitus  calls  it  Clanis  —  should  not  be 
allowed  to  flow  into  the  Arno,  which,  they  said,  would 
bring  destruction  upon  them. 

When  the  Empire  fell,  Tuscany,  like  the  other  prov- 
inces of  Italy,  became  subject  to  the  Goths.  It  is  said 
that  a  horde  of  these  barbarians  attacked  the  city,  a.  d. 
405,  under  a  leader  called  Radagasius,  but  were  defeated 
by  the  Roman  general,  Stilicho.  This  battle  was  fought 
on  the  8th  of  October,  the  feast  of  Santa  Reparata,  —  a 
young  Cappadocian  martyr  who  was  put  to  death  at 
the  age  of  twelve.  It  was  reported  that  she  appeared 
in  the  thick  of  the  battle,  bearing  a  red  banner  in  her 
hand,  on  which  was  emblazoned  the  lily,  —  the  emblem  of 
the  Blessed  Virgin.  Hence  the  Florentine  devotion  to 
this  saint,  whose  festival  they  continued  to  celebrate  in 
memory  of  ihat  day ;  hence  the  adoption  of  her  banner 
as  the  shield  of  the  republic,  and  the  dedication  to  her 
memory  of  that  which  was  formerly  their  principal  church. 
The  story  of  the  destruction  of  the  city  by  Totila,  and 
its  subsequent  reconstruction  by  Charles  the  Great,  is  a 
fable. 

Florence  had  bishops  in  the  fourth  century ;  and  to- 
wards the  end  of  this  period  the  most  distinguished 
among  them  was  Zenobis,  or  Zanobius,  in  whose  time 
Saint  Ambrose,  who  was  a  friend  of  his,  is  said  to  have 
come  to  Florence  and  consecrated  the  church  of  San 
Lorenzo.*  It  was  believed  that  the  appearance  of  Santa 
Reparata  was  an  answer  to  the  prayers  A  Zanobius,  who 
was  then  bishop.     Slowly  the  city  went  on  increasing, 

1  This  is  what  Capponi  says.  Miss  Horner  says  he  conse- 
crated Zanobius  bishop  in  the  church  of  San  Lorenzo. 

6 


u' 


J:i 


82 


SAVONAROLA. 


I 


I'i 


1 


=  1 


Stretching  out  towards  Fiesole,  until  about  the  year  looo 
the  inhabitants  of  the  two  cities  had  become  one  people, 
when  they  decided  to  unite  their  armorial  bearings,  mak- 
ing them  red  and  white  :  the  red  with  a  white  lily  being 
the  ancient  arms  of  Florence,  and  the  white  with  an 
azure  moon  the  arms  of  Fiesole.  There  is  no  truth  in 
the  story  that  Fiesole  became  subject  to  Florence  by 
conquest. 

In  the  wars  between  the  Empire  and  the  Papacy  Flor- 
ence was  deeply  implicated,  and  was  driven  by  her  un- 
dying love  of  liberty  to  devote  herself  ardently  to  the 
side  of  the  Pope.  Such  a  statement  may  seem  extra- 
ordinary and  unintelligible  to  ourselves  in  these  days, 
but  it  is  notwithstanding  susceptible  of  easy  explanation. 
In  the  conflict  with  the  Emperors,  the  Popes  when  driven 
from  Rome  not  infrequently  came  to  reside  at  Florence, 
and  Victor  II.  died  there  in  1057;  but  the  reason  for 
the  espousal  of  the  papal  cause  by  the  Florentines  lies 
deeper.  It  is  easy  to  understand  the  point  of  view  of 
either  party  in  this  long  standing  quarrel.  From  the 
German,  or  imperial,  side,  nothing  could  be  more  natural 
than  the  Ghibelline  view  of  the  matter.  From  the  Ital- 
ian, or  papal,  side,  the  Guelf  policy  was  equally  defensi- 
ble. The  Florentine  leaning  in  this  dispute,  however,  did 
not  arise  from  any  high  notions  of  the  papal  preroga- 
tives, but  from  the  conviction  that  only  in  proportion 
as  the  Empire,  and  with  it  the  power  of  the  nobles, 
was  held  in  check,  could  the  liberties  of  the  republic 
be  established  and  secured.  In  illustration  of  this 
view  of  the  subject,  it  may  be  noticed  that  during  the 
ascendency  of  the  aristocracy  Florence  was  generally 
Ghibelline. 

Florence,  like  Athens,  seems  to  have  had,  through- 


'i 


FLORENCE  AND   THE  MEDICI. 


83 


out  all  the  days  of  its  greatness,  at  least,  an  unquencha- 
ble passion  for  liberty ;  and  it  owed  all  its  greatness  to 
its  freedom.  It  is  true  that  Florence,  like  other  repub- 
lics, was  fickle,  capricious,  wayward,  ungrateful ;  but  the 
free  constitution  of  the  city,  in  spite  of  all  the  abuses  con- 
nected with  its  exercise  and  its  history,  gave  scope  to 
industry  and  rendered  possible  the  development  of  the 
resources  of  the  city.  A  man  nad  power  not  alone  or 
chiefly  because  he  bore  an  honored  name,  but  because 
he  actually  possessed  in  himself  that  vital  force  which  the 
public  conscience  and  the  public  will  were  constrained 
to  acknowledge.  A  man  was  raised  to  authority  because 
he  was  worthy  of  authority.  It  is  true  that  jealousy 
and  envy  might  remove  him  from  his  place  and  drive 
him  from  the  State  ;  but  the  commonwealth  had  profited 
by  his  services  even  when  it  had  proved  itself  in  a  meas- 
ure unworthy  of  them.  The  Florentines  knew  that  the 
aristocratic  party  were  hostile  to  their  liberties  and  that 
the  oligarchy  was  sustained  by  the  Emperor  as  suzerain  ; 
and  therefore  they  were  Guelfs.  In  the  same  way  Pisa, 
subject  to  Florence,  ever  resenting  the  yoke  which  it 
was  unable  to  shake  off,  took  sides  with  its  adversaries 
and  became  Ghibelliiie.  It  ought  to  be  mentioned,  as  an 
important  event  in  the  history  of  the  conflict,  that  Ma- 
tilda, Countess  of  Tuscany,  who  held  Florence  and  the 
other  cities  of  that  province  under  the  Emperor,  warmly 
espoused  the  cause  of  the  Pope,  and  placed  her  wealth 
and  her  possessions  at  his  service.  In  the  great  struggle 
between  Gregory  VJI.  (Hildebrand)  and  the  Emperor, 
Florence  voluntarily  took  the  same  side.  At  her  death 
the  countess  kit  to  the  Roman  See  the  whole  of  her 
vast  territories,  which  enormously  increased  the  power 
of  the  I'ope,  but  naturally  embittered  the  strife  between 


84 


SAV'ONAROLA. 


hiru  and  the  Emperor,  who  regarded  these  possessions 
as  legitimately  f^iHing  by  reversion  to  himself. 

From  aneient  times  the  Italian  cities  hati  ordinarily 
been  governed  by  two  consuls,  in  imitation  of  their  mis- 
tress, Rome  ;  and  about  the  time  of  its  union  with  Fie- 
sole,  Florence  had  associated  with  these  one  hundred 
senators,  chosen  from  the  best  men  of  the  State.  The 
ccnsuls  afterwards  varied  in  number,  sometimes  being 
as  many  as  twelve ;  but  they  were  always  chosen  from 
the  nobility.  By  degrees  —  we  cannot  be  quite  sure  of 
the  time ;  it  was  probably  about  the  beginning  of  the 
thirteenth  century  —  these  consuls  came  to  be  called 
Consuls  of  the  Artt,  or  trades ;  and  here  we  have  the 
germ  of  that  institution  which  endured,  under  various 
names,  as  long  as  the  liberties  of  Florence  endured. 
Sometimes  they  were  called  Priors  {Friori)^  sometimes 
BuotC  uomini  (Good  men),  sometimes  Anziani,  or  An- 
cients, sometimes  they  numbered  four  or  six,  sometimes 
ten,  twelve,  or  twenty-four ;  but  the  general  character  of 
the  office  was  maintained  throughout. 

Amid  all  the  changes  in  the  form  of  the  government 
the  Emperor  was  always,  in  theory,  at  least,  regarded 
as  supreme,  however  little  of  actual  power  might  be 
conceded  to  him.  But  when,  by  means  of  the  Lombard 
league,  the  cities  of  Italy  obtained  at  the  peace  of  Con- 
stance a  local  government,  there  was  appointed  an  officer 
of  a  very  mixed  character  as  regarded  both  his  position 
and  his  functions.  He  was  named  the  Podes^^,  or  Po- 
testa,  and  was,  during  his  term  of  office,  at  once  the  head 
of  the  State  and  the  representative  of  the  Emperor. 
His  powers  were  both  judicial  and  administrative  :  he 
had  the  power  of  the  sword,  and  he  was  known  as  the 
lord  of  the  place.     The  Emperor  originally  intended 


FLORENCE  AND   THE  MEDICI. 


that  this  official  should  be  appointed  and  invested  by 
himself;  but  this  prerogative  was  rarely  exercised,  and 
eventually  fell  into  disuse,  so  that  the  Podcstk  was 
elected  by  the  citizens.  The  election  was  only  for  a 
year  or  six  months,  to  prevent  the  abuse  of  powers  so 
great  as  those  with  which  he  was  entrusted.  He  was 
required  to  be  of  a  noble  family ;  and  to  prevent  his 
giving  partial  judgments,  he  was  never  chosen  from 
among  the  citizens,  but  from  another  city  or  country. 
Originally,  in  Florence,  he  had  his  residence  at  the  arch- 
bishop's palace  ;  afterwards  in  the  palace  which  bore  his 
name,  —  the  Palazzo  del  Podcsti,  now  known  as  the 
Bargello  ;  finally  in  the  Palazzo  della  Signoria,  or  Palazzo 
Vecchio.  He  was  supreme  over  all  the  other  magis- 
trates, and  all  public  acts  were  performed  in  his  name 
and  under  his  authority.  His  dress  w.is,  like  his  office, 
peculiar  and  distinctive.  He  wore  a  long  robe,  white, 
yellow,  or  formed  of  cloth  of  gold ;  on  his  head  he  wore 
a  red  cap. 

In  1248,  through  the  influence  of  Frederick,  Prince  of 
Antioch,  the  natural  son  of  the  Emperor  Frederick  II., 
the  Guelfs  were  cast  out  of  Florence,  and  the  Ghibel- 
lines  were  for  a  time  supreme  ;  but  their  triumph  was  of 
short  duration.  In  1250  the  citizens  met  together;  and 
forming  themselves  into  a  number  of  groups,  —  reported 
diversely  as  thirty-six  and  fifty,  —  they  chose  as  many 
leaders  and  captains  of  a  kind  of  local  militia,  who 
were  also  a  council  of  government.  In  place  of  the 
PodestA,  they  elected  a  Captain  of  the  People,  with  very 
much  the  same  qualifications  and  powers  ;  but  they  soon 
afterwards  restored  the  Podesth,  assigning  to  him  and 
the  Captain  independent  tribunals,  so  that  the  one  migl 
be  a  check  upon  the  other.     They  then  divided  the 


i!  II 


fj   < 


5; 


86 


SAVONAROLA. 


city  into  six  wards,  each  ward,  sesfo  or  sestiere  (sixth), 
as  it  was  called,  having  over  it  two  anziani  (ancients  or 
seniors),  —  twelve  in  all.  These  twelve  seniors,  who  were 
elected  for  the  space  of  two  months  only,  were  required 
to  live,  to  eat,  and  to  sleep  in  the  public  palace,  and 
could  only  go  out  together.  The  collective  body  was 
called  the  Signoria. 

We  see  the  government  of  the  republic  here  assuming 
the  shape  which,  in  its  general  outlines,  it  retained  up 
to  the  sixteenth  century.  Capponi  divides  the  history 
of  Florence  into  four  periods :  i .  The  heroic  stage, 
from  1 183  to  132 1 ;  2.  The  levelling  stage,  from  132 1 
101382;  3  The  reactionary,  or  aristocratic,  stage,  from 
1382  to  1434;  4.  The  Medicean,  or  servile,  stage.  But 
each  of  these  was  characterized  by  many  changes. 
Hardly  had  the  measures  just  described  been  adopted, 
when  the  Guelfs  were  recalled  and  the  Ghibellines  ex- 
pelled. In  1267  (two  years,  let  us  remark,  after  the 
birth  of  Dante)  the  names  of  the  twelve  magistrates 
were  called,  as  we  have  said,  Buoji'  uomini.  In  1282 
they  are  six  in  number,  and  are  called  Priori  delle  arti ; 
and  now  they  are  not  the  elect  of  wards,  but  the  repre- 
sentatives of  guilds,  these  arti,  or  corporations  of  trades, 
being  first  three  and  then  six.  The  six  priors,  afterwards 
eight,  are  known  as  the  College  of  Priors  j  and  over 
them,  ten  years  later,  is  placed  a  Gotifaloniere  (standard- 
bearer)  of  justice,  elected,  like  the  priors,  for  two  months 
only.  For  our  present  purpose  it  may  be  sufficient 
to  add  that  various  councils  were  afterwards  formed, 
to  whom  all  laws  proposed  by  the  Signoria  had  to  be 
referred  before  they  were  finally  promulgated ;  besides 
two  smaller  bodies  known  as  the  "  Ten  of  War,"  whose 
name  indicates  their  office,  and  the  Magistracy  of  Eight 


FLORENCE  AND   THE  MEDICI, 


%  ! 


light 


(^Otto  di  Guardid),  who  had  to  try  criminal  cases,  and 
were  appointed  for  a  period  of  four  months.^ 

It  may  be  sufficient  further  to  note  here  that  the 
tendency  of  Florence  was,  for  many  generations,  more 
and  more  to  democracy.  To  such  an  extent  was  this 
tendency  carried  that  nobiUty,  instead  of  being  a  quali- 
fication, as  in  former  days,  became  an  absolute  bar  to 
office  in  the  government  of  the  republic ;  m  consequence 
of  which  a  member  of  a  noble  family  had  to  lay  aside 
his  privileges  of  nobility  before  he  became  qualified  for 
election.  There  were,  of  course,  fluctuations  in  the 
carrying  out  of  these  tendencies.  When  the  citizens 
grew  weary  of  popular  turbulence  they  would  throw 
themselves  into  the  arms  of  a  despot,  as  in  the  case  of 
the  Duke  of  Athens ;  but  their  native  love  of  freedom 
made  them  speedily  throw  off  the  yoke,  and  there  arose 
among  them  a  new  nobility,  which  was  likely  to  prove 
no  less  dangerous  than  the  old,  —  a  nobility  which  was 
derived  from  the  trades  or  professions  of  Floren^  e,  .dA 
which  drew  its  authority,  not  from  ancient  titles,  but 
from  intellir  nee,  from  wealth,  and  from  the  influence 
by  which  they  are  accompanied.  One  of  these  was  the 
family  of  the  Medici. 

There  had  been  various  names  of  distinction  in  this 
family  ;  but  the  true  founder  of  its  greatness  was  Gio- 
vanni de'  Medici,  the  father  of  Cosimo,  called  Fater 
FatricBy  and  the  great-grandfather  of  Lorenzo,  surnamed 
"the  Magnificent."  By  industry  and  intelligent  enter- 
prise Giovanni  acquired  enormous  wealth ;  and  this, 
together  with  his  Jiberality  and  affability,  made  him  one 

1  A  detailed  account  of  the  changes  in  the  government  of 
Florence  will  be  found  in  Capponi,  under  the  various  dates ;  a 
good  compressed  account  in  Von  Reumont,  Lorenzo,  bk.  i.  ch.  6. 


I 


1 1 


ii 


SAVONAROLA. 


of  the  most  influential  men  in  the  city.  He  left  two 
sons.  From  the  younger  descended  that  line  of  Medi- 
cean  Grand  Dukes  under  whom  Florence  fell  so  low 
as  to  forget  all  her  former  glory.  It  is  with  the 
elder,  Cosimo,  and  his  descendants  that  we  have  now 
to  do. 

Cosimo,  boin  in  1389,  was  thirly-nine  years  of  age 
at  the  death  of  his  father  in  1429.  Before  this  time, 
however,  he  had  attained  to  great  influence  and  au- 
thority. He  accompanied  John  XXHI.  to  the  Council 
of  Constance ;  and  when  that  Pope  was  deposed  by 
the  council,  and  Martin  V.  elected,  Cosimo  redeemed 
him  from  the  Duke  of  Bavc:ria,  by  whom  he  had  been 
detained  a  prisoner,  and  gave  him  a  shelter  in  Florence 
during  the  remainder  of  his  life  It  is  perhaps  impos- 
sible for  us,  who  remember  the  evils  that  the  Medici 
have  inflicted  on  Florence,  to  regard  with  complacency 
their  rise  to  power  in  the  State.  Yet  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  enumerate  the  attributes  of  a  good  citizen 
without  including  some  of  the  conspicuous  excellences 
of  Cosimo  de'  Medici.  There  is  at  least  a  measure 
of  truth  in  Voltaire's  remark,  that  "  no  family  ever  ob- 
tained its  power  by  so  just  a  title." 

By  dej:i  .es  Cosimo  attained  to  so  great  authority  in 
the  republic  that  he  was  practically  absolute.  The 
executive  power  was  at  this  time  exercised  by  eight 
priors,  and  a  Gonfaloniere  elected  every  two  months ; 
the  judicial  power  was  in  the  hands  of  officers,  aliens 
to  the  State,  bearing  the  names  of  Podesta  and  Captain 
of  the  People,  chosen  once  a  year ;  and  while  Cosimo 
had  sufficient  influence  to  procure  the  election  of  ma- 
gi:trates  who  were  willing  to  give  effect  to  his  wishes, 
he  was  at  the  same  time  careful  to  preserve  the  forms 


■"•■? 


FLORENCE  AND    THE  MEDICI, 


89 


to  which  the  citizens  had  been  accustomed.  While, 
therefore,  the  liberties  of  the  people  were  being  gradu- 
ally but  steadily  unden^iined,  this  was  carried  on  with- 
out any  suspicion  being  excited  that  they  were  parting 
with  their  birthright.  It  was  by  a  kind  of  true  instinct 
that  they  entitled  Cosimo  the  father  of  his  country ; 
but  they  did  not  reflect  that  "■  paternal  government," 
which  in  the  family  is  the  only  allowable  method,  has 
a  tendency  to  weaken  and  enslave  a  nation. 

Whether  animated  by  sentiments  of  patriotism  or  by 
feelings  of  personal  jealousy  and  enmity,  there  was  a 
party  in  the  city  which  could  not  regard  the  influence 
of  the  Medici  with  indifference  or  equanimity ;  and  a 
Signoria,  or  body  of  magistrates  (comprehending  the 
priors  and  the  Gon/aloniere),  was  elected  in  opposition 
to  them  (1433).  Rinaldo  degli  Albizzi,  the  leader  of 
this  opposition,  obtained  from  the  new  magistracy  a 
decree  sentencing  the  Medici  and  their  adherents  to 
banishment.  Cosimo  was  exiled  to  Padua  for  ten 
years.  It  was  feared,  however,  that  his  enemies,  who 
had  put  him  in  prison,  might  make  an  attempt  on  his 
life ;  and  Cosimo  provided  for  his  safety  by  bribing 
his  keepers,  and  so  secured  his  escape.  During  his 
exile,  it  may  be  mentioned,  he  made  the  acquaintance 
of  that  Michelozzo  Michelozzi  whom  he  was  afterwards 
to  employ  in  the  reconstruction  of  St.  Mark's. 

Everywhere  he  was  received  and  entertained  as  if 
he  had  been  a  prince  on  his  travels,  rather  than  a  citi- 
zen banished  from  his  home.  Partly  through  his  own 
patient  fortitude,  partly  through  the  indecent  violence 
of  his  enemies,  a  reaction  soon  took  place  in  Florence  ; 
and  before  a  year  had  elapsed  from  the  time  of  his 
departure,   a   magistracy   friendly   to   the   Medici   was 


-  )■  1 


•  I  ' 

I  •  ■ 


M   ! 


^  SAVONAROLA. 

appointed,  and  Cosimo  and  his  brother  were  recalled, 
and  their  opponents  driven  into  exile. 

When  Cosimo  returned  to  Florence,  although  he  did 
not  spare  his  foes,  he  showed  no  resentment  towards 
the  citizens,  but  proceeded  to  multiply  his  benefactions 
to  every  useful  object.  Among  these  he  gave  a  promi- 
nent place  to  the  advancement  of  learning.  It  has 
])een  said  that  Cosimo  was  merciful  to  his  enemies. 
The  truth,  however,  is  that  he  took  care  to  preserve  the 
forms  of  law  while  driving  numbers  of  them  into  banish- 
ment.^ We  have  referred  to  his  munif  cence  in  being 
the  second  founder  of  San  Marco  and  in  having  pro- 
vided it  with  a  library  ;  but  he  may  indirectly  have  for- 
warded a  still  greater  work  than  this.  The  man  whom 
he  selected  to  assist  in  the  arrangement  of  the  library 
left  by  Niccolo  Niccoli,  and  presented  by  Cosimo  to  the 
Dominicans  of  San  Marco,  was  Tomaso  Calandrino,  the 
son  of  a  poor  physician  of  Sarzana.  Within  a  few  years 
this  Thomas  of  Sarzana,  as  Pope  Nicholas  V.,  was  to 
begin  the  formation  of  the  great  library  of  the  Vatican. 

While  Cosimo  was  thus  wisely  and  liberally,  oat  of 
his  princely  fortune,  promoting  special  works  ol  utility, 
he  was  not  only  interesting  himself  in  the  government 
of  the  State,  but  he  was  effectually  promoting  the  spread 
of  learning,  and  especially  the  study  of  the  Greek  lan- 
guage, which,  after  being  revived  in  the  days  of  Petrarch 
and  Boccaccio,  had  begun  to  languish.  Among  those 
whose  studies  he  encouraged  and  assisted  was  Marsilio 

*  When  remonstrated  with  on  account  of  the  numbers  ban- 
ished, and  told  that  the  city  would  be  wasted  {giiasta),  he 
replied :  Mcglio  giiasta  cite  perdiita^  —  "  Better  wasted  than 
lost."  Under  his  bland  courtesy  there  was  fixed  and  ruthless 
determination. 


.  1 


\     ' 


FLORENCE  AND   THE  MEDICI. 


9» 


Ficino,  the  son  of  his  favorite  physician,  whom  he 
appointed  over  the  academy  which  he  established  at 
Florence  for  the  study  of  the  Platonic  philosophy.  It 
was  under  his  patronage  that  Ficino  commenced  the 
translations  of  Plato  which  he  was  enabled  afterwords 
to  publish  by  the  liberality  of  Lorenzo. 

Cosimo  died  at  the  age  of  seventy-five,  in  1465.  He 
was  full  of  honors  as  of  years ;  but  his  last  days  were 
not  unclouded  with  anxieties.  His  younger  son,  Gio- 
vanni, of  whom  he  had  entertained  the  highest  expecta- 
tions, died  before  him ;  and  Piero,  who  had  married 
a  daughter  of  the  house  of  'I'ornabu  mi,  had  not  in- 
herited the  genius  of  his  family.  Piero's  eldest  son, 
Lorenzo,  was  only  sixteen  at  the  lime  of  his  grand- 
father's death ;  and  although  he  had  given  promise 
of  remarkable  powers,  his  youth  rendered  any  calcula- 
tions respecting  the  future  very  uncertain.  Indeed, 
Cosimo  never  seems  to  have  felt  very  confident  with 
regard  to  the  fortunes  of  his  family.  When  he  was 
adorning  Florence  by  building  palaces,  churches,  mon- 
asteries, he  used  to  say :  "  I  know  the  humors  of  this 
city,"  —  he  had  had  some  experience  of  them  in  this 
very  way,  —  "  fifty  years  will  not  pas  >  before  we  are 
driven  out  of  it;  but  the  buildings  will  remain." 
"  Words  as  wise  as  they  were  magnanimous,"  says  Cap- 
poni,^  "and  a  go  )d  foundation  for  the  greatness  of 
his  house." 

Piero  lived  only  five  years  after  (he  death  of  his 
father ;  and  it  was  well,  perhaps,  for  his  house  that  it 
had  not  longer  to  suffer  from  his  weakness  and  .icapa- 
city.^    Well,  also,  it  was  for  Lorenzo  that  his  mother 


1  Lib.  V.  c.  3. 

2  Von  Reumont  has,  howeve 


siiuwn  that  Piero  was  not  so 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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1.6 


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;\ 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  145S0 

(716)S73-4S03 


'4^ 


I 


d 


111 


'  i 


SAVONAROLA. 


was  Lucrezia  Tojnabuoni,  —  one  who  was  able  to  form 
his  young  mind,  and  to  impress  upon  it  a  stamp  which 
it  never  lost.  Next  to  her  influence  was  that  of  his 
tutor,  his  father's  friend  and  prot/g^y  Marsilio  Ficino. 
Of  this  man  it  is  necessary  to  say  something,  not  only 
because  of  his  part  in  forming  the  opinions  and  char- 
acter of  Lorenzo,  but  also  on  account  of  his  place  in 
the  great  intellectual  movement  of  those  times. 

The  great  Schoolmen  of  the  Middle  Ages  had  been 
almost  entirely  under  the  influence  of  Aristotle;  but 
the  revived  study  of  Plato  in  the  East  was  speedily 
transferred  to  the  West,  and  was  the  signal  for  fierce 
controversies  between  the  adherents  of  the  two  schools. 
Men  like  the  elder  Pico  might  attempt  a  reconciliation 
between  them ;  but  history  will  have  taught  us  the  fruit- 
lessness  of  such  attempts,  and  will  enable  us  to  under- 
stand that  the  champions  of  orthodoxy,  with  Saint 
Thomas  at  their  head,  were  generally  Aristotelians, 
while  the  followers  of  Plato  were  frequently  tainted 
with  latitudinarianism,  or  even  heresy.  It  was  the  inten- 
tion and  chief  endeavor  of  Ficino,  not  merely  to  teach 
the  Platonic  philosophy,  but  to  show  its  accordance 
with  Christianity.  His  thoughts  on  the  subject  will  be 
better  conveyed  by  a  slight  description  of  a  short  treatise 
which  he  wrote,  "  On  the  Christian  Religion."  *     - 

He  sets  forth  with  the  intention  of  proving  the  Divine 
mission  of  Christ  and  the  truth  of  His  doctrine ;  and 
by  way  of  introducing  this  theme  he  remarks  that  the 
coming  of  Christ  had  been  many  times  prophesied  by 

contemptible  as  he  has  been  represented.  He  was  an  affection- 
ate parent  and  friend,  and  a  gentle  and  merciful  ruler  (Life  of 
Lorenzo,  bk.  ii.  ch  4). 

1  Delia  religione  Cristiana  (Fiorenza,  1568) ;  cf.  Villari,  i.  4. 


•-^.tmiaHt:t»9m^nt%'^xrAvM.\Da^^- 


FLORENCE  AND   THE  MEDICI. 


93 


the  Sibyls :  the  famous  verses  of  Virgil  are  known  to 
all.  Plato,  when  he  was  asked  how  long  the  precepts 
of  his  philosophy  would  endure,  had  replied,  "  Only 
until  He  shall  come  who  shall  open  the  fountain  of  all 
truth;"  and  Porphyry  had  said  that  the  gods  pro- 
nounced Christ  supremely  pious  and  religious,  and 
declared  that  He  was  immortal,  testifying  very  benig- 
nantly  of  Him  {tnolto  benignatnente  testificando  di  liii). 
It  would  not,  perhaps,  be  quite  fair  to  judge  of  the 
author's  own  most  inward  sentiments  from  arguments 
such  as  these,  as  it  may  be  answered  that  he  was  here 
only  addressing  himself  to  Platonists,  and  commending 
to  their  acceptance  the  religion  of  Christ ;  but  it  is,  in 
fact,  much  nearer  the  truth  to  say  that  he  cared  more 
for  Platonism  than  for  Christianity,  and  sought  to  find 
disciples  for  his  master  by  conciliating  those  who  from 
the  side  of  the  Church  looked  upon  his  system  with 
suspicion.  We  can  understand,  when  we  reflect  on 
tendencies  like  these,  how  Savonarola  revolted  from  this 
Platonism,  and  turned  with  ever-deepening  affection  and 
reverence  to  his  Bible.  He  saw  clearly  that  the  aim  of 
the  great  promoters  of  the  new  learning  in  Florence  was 
not  to  strengthen,  or  even  to  broaden,  the  Christian 
doctrine  and  system,  but  to  undermine  it.  They  Plato- 
nized  the  Gospel,  and  they  professed  to  Christianize 
Platonism  ;  but  the  result  was  simply  a  refined  heathen- 
ism adorned  with  Christian  phrases  and  sent  forth  with 
a  Christian  sanction. 

Among  the  hearers  of  Ficino  were  Angelo  Poliziano 
and  the  elder  Pico,  as  well  as  Lorenzo.  The  friendship 
between  Ficino  and  Cosimo  was  of  the  most  intimate 
character.  "  Come  to  me  as  quickly  as  possible," 
writes  the  latter  from  his  villa  at  Careggi,  "  and  bring 


I 


94 


SAVONAROLA. 


t 


\l 


■| 


\\\ 


rf 


I      M 


I   ! 


with  you  our  Plato's  treatise  on  the  Summum  Bonum, 
which  you  have  now  translated,  I  believe,  according  to 
your  promise,  from  Greek  into  Latin."  "  Nobody,"  says 
Ficino,  "  was  ever  dearer  to  me  than  the  great  Cosimo  ;" 
and  writing  to  Lorenzo,  after  his  father's  death,  he  says  : 
"  When  we  had  thus  read  together,  as  you  well  know, 
for  you  were  present,  Plato's  treatise  on  the  Summum 
Bonum,  Cosimo  ^.cd  soon  after,  as  if  to  enter  on  the 
abundant  possession  of  that  good  of  which  he  had  tasted 
in  discussion."  ^  It  is  the  same  spirit  of  paganism  which 
pervades  all  his  thoughts  and  his  life.  He  had  a  bust 
of  Plato  in  his  chamber,  and  a  lamp  continually  burning 
before  it.  He  considered  that  the  character  of  Socrates 
was  a  foreshadowing  of  that  of  Christ,  and  wished  that 
the  Platonic  philosophy  were  taught  in  churches.  This 
is  the  man  and  these  are  the  principles  under  the  influ- 
ence of  which  Lorenzo  grew  up  to  manhood. 

The  work  of  suppressing  and  exterminating  the  ene- 
mies of  his  house  had  been  so  thoroughly  carried  out  by 
Cosimo  that,  in  spite  of  the  feeble  government  of  Piero, 
and  the  youth  of  his  two  sons,  —  Lorenzo  was  only  one 
and  twenty,  and  Giuliano  only  sixteen,  at  the  time  of 
their  father's  death,  —  they  succeeded  at  once  to  the 
authority  of  their  family  in  the  government  of  Florence 
and  the  administration  of  its  affairs.  It  is  to  Lorenzo 
that  we  are  now  to  look  as  the  guiding  spirit  in  the 
republic ;  and  we  cannot  understand  the  attitude  as- 
sumed towards  him  by  Savonarola,  unless  we  first  obtain 
a  fairly  clear  notion  of  his  character  and  designs.  Few 
can  be  unaware  that  opinions  on  this  subject  the  most 
diverse  have  been  and  perhaps  still  are  entertained  by 
different  writers  on  this  period  of  history.     According  to 

1  Cf.  Harford's  Life  of  Michael  Angelo,  ch.  iv. 


FLORENCE  AND    THE  MEDICI. 


95 


.»» 


as- 
Dtain 
Few 
most 
:dby 
ngto 


Roscoe  and  writers  of  his  school,  Lorenzo,  if  not  fault- 
less, was  at  least  a  great,  an  enlightened,  and  a  benig- 
nant ruler,  the  patron  of  literature  and  art,  and  the 
benefactor  of  the  republic.  Such  a  man  could  be 
opposed  only  by  the  factious,  the  turbulent,  or  the 
selfish.  According  to  others,  he  was  a  crafty  tyrant, 
seeking  by  every  means,  however  unscrupulous,  to  gain 
power  and  popularity ;  preserving  the  appearance  of 
liberty  to  Florence  only  that  he  might  the  more  effectu- 
ally enslave  it ;  pampering  every  evil  appetite  of  its 
citizens,  that  he  might  secure  their  support  and  destroy 
their  power  of  resistance.  Either  side  must  have  some- 
thing to  say  for  itself;  and  if  the  worshippers  of  Lorenzo 
are  absurd  and  irrational  in  their  idolatry,  it  is  possible 
that  his  enemies  do  not  take  sufficient  account  of  the 
corruption  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived.  It  may  be 
granted  on  behalf  of  the  former  that  Lorenzo  did  much 
for  Florence  and  its  people ;  but  it  is  equally  certain 
that  he  made  no  stand  against  the  evils  which  were 
slowly  bringing  the  city  to  ruin,  that  he  probably  cared 
little  for  the  deterioration  which  was  going  on  around 
him,  and  that  he  used  it  for  his  own  purposes.  The 
more  convincing  are  the  proofs  of  his  abilities  and  ac- 
complishments, the  more  heavy  must  be  his  condemna- 
tion for  having  failed  to  use  them  for  the  true  well-being 
of  Florence. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent 
was  a  man  of  varied  accomplishments  and  of  consider- 
able attractiveness  of  manner.  In  stature  he  was  above 
the  middle  size,  and  he  was  strongly  built  and  robust. 
He  had  a  dark  complexion,  weak  sight,  a  harsh  and 
nasal  voice,  a  large  mouth,  and  a  nose  which,  like  that 
of  his  great  contemporary,  Michael  Angelo,  had  suffered 


',! 


I 


': 


90 


SAVONAROLA. 


an  injury  which  disfigured  it.  For  this  reason,  perhaps, 
he  had  lost  all  sense  of  smell.  But  his  eye  was  brigiit 
and  penetrating,  his  forehead  lofty,  and  his  manners 
peculiarly  cultivated  and  graceful.  In  conversation  he 
showed  himself  well-informed,  ingenious,  and  vivacious ; 
and  he  exercised  a  remarkable  fascination  over  all  who 
were  admitted  to  intimacy  with  him.  The  effects  of  his 
eloquence  on  public  auditories  were  on  several  occasions 
very  considerable.  In  morals  he  was  the  reflection  of 
his  own  age ;  to  the  pleasures  which  he  encouraged 
among  the  Florentines  he  was,  in  no  moderate  degree, 
himself  addicted. 

There  was,  indeed,  in  the  social  life  of  Florence  at 
this  time  a  very  remarkable  combination  of  character- 
istics. If  literature  had  degenerated,  the  age  could  still 
produce  writers  like  Machiavelli  and  Guicciardini ;  but 
painting  had  entered  upon  a  new,  and  its  greatest  era, 
and  architecture  was  asserting  a  place  beside  the  sister 
art.  With  all  this,  morality  had  sunk  to  its  lowest  ebb. 
It  had  become  a  subject  for  animated  discussion  and 
controversy,  but  it  had  ceased  to  be  regarded  as  having 
a  right  to  regulate  men's  lives.  It  was  not  that  the 
principles  of  the  Christian  faith  or  its  rules  of  life  were 
contradicted  or  denied,  they  were  simply  ignored  or 
refined  away.  If  men  did  not  deny  the  religion  of  the 
gospel,  or  express  their  doubts  of  its  reality,  it  was  be- 
cause they  were  too  indifferent  as  to  the  truth  or  false- 
hood of  its  claims. 

Lorenzo  de'  Medici  was  essentially  a  man  of  his  age. 
In  himself,  in  his  own  character  and  life,  he  represented 
its  contradictions,  and  he  did  his  best  to  foster  the  worst 
side  of  the  popular  taste.  His  gracious  manners  did 
not  proceed  from  a  generous  spirit,  they  were  the  re- 


FLORENCE  AND   THE  MEDICI. 


97 


suit  of  training.  He  had  inherited  from  his  grandfather 
the  politic  sense  which  enabled  him  to  discern  what  was 
most  captivating  to  the  mob ;  and  even  his  encourage- 
ment of  learning  did  not  proceed  entirely  from  enthu- 
siasm for  the  spread  of  knowledge  and  truth,  but  was 
rather  a  means  of  amusement  or  a  measure  of  policy. 
The  strange  contrasts  in  Lorenzo's  life  are  hardly  intel- 
ligible to  ourselves.  He  was  equally  at  home  in  the 
Platonic  assembly,  disputing  on  the  nature  of  virtue  ;  in 
the  society  of  artists,  discussing  the  theory  of  beauty 
and  its  exemplification  in  the  creations  of  the  Italian 
painters  and  sculptors ;  in  the  gardens  of  San  Marco, 
contemplating  with  satisfaction  his  own  work  in  advan- 
cing at  once  the  fine  arts  and  the  interests  of  religion ; 
and  in  the  Carnival,  joining  in  the  wildest  orgies  of  its 
votaries. 

If  testimony  seem  insufficient  to  verify  the  last  state- 
ment, there  is  additional  confirmation  in  his  encourage- 
ment of  this  festival,  and  in  his  actually  having  written 
songs  to  be  used  in  its  celebration.  Of  these  celebrated 
Songs  for  the  Carnival  {Canti  Carnascialescht) ,  which 
were  an  invention  of  his  own,  and  which  were  sung  by 
the  young  nobles  in  their  masquerades  throughout  the 
city,  we  need  only  say  that  they  are  so  coarse  and  ob- 
scene that  they  could  not  now  be  read  in  any  society 
without  being  regarded  as  an  offence  against  ordinary 
decency.  It  is  difficult  to  say  whether  he  did  more 
mischief  by  the  destruction  of  liberty  or  by  the  encour- 
agement of  immorality. 


(t 


It  is  impossible,"  says  Sismondi,  "  to  place  him  in  the 
rank  of  the  greatest  men  of  whom  Italy  boasts.  Such 
honor  is  reserved  for  those  who,  superior  to  personal  in- 
terests, secure  by  the  labor  of  their  life  the  peace,  the 

7 


98 


SAVONAROLA. 


glory,  or  the  liberty  of  their  country.  Lorenzo,  on  the 
contrary,  habitually  pursued  a  selfish  policy  ;  he  sustained 
by  bloody  executions  a  usurped  power :  he  every  day 
added  to  the  weight  of  9  yoke  detested  by  a  free  city ;  he 
deprived  the  legitimate  magistrates  of  the  authority  as- 
signed to  them  by  the  constitution  ;  and  he  excluded  his 
fellow-citizens  from  that  political  career  in  which,  before 
his  time,  they  had  developed  so  much  talent.  We  shall 
see,"  he  adds,  "  in  the  sequel  of  this  history  the  fatal  con- 
sequences of  his  ambition  and  of  the  overthrow  of  the 
national  insti*utions  "  * 

In  this  extract  there  is  an  allusion  to  the  sacrifice  of 
human  life  on  the  part  of  Lorenzo ;  and  there  is  one 
instance  of  this  kind  of  cruelty  which  must  not  be  left 
unnoticed,  on  account  of  its  connection  with  our  story. 
We  refer  to  the  sack  of  Volterra.  This  was  one  of  the 
subject-towns  of  Florence,  which,  in  the  year  1466,  re- 
volted, in  consequence  of  the  rapacity  of  Lorenzo  him- 
self.'^ Many  of  the  Florentines  were  inclined  to  try 
gentle  measures,  and  would  have  extended  pardon  to 
the  offenders ;  but  Lorenzo,  then  only  eighteen  years  of 
age,  in  a  spirit  which  reminds  us  of  his  grandfather's 
"  better  that  the  city  should  be  wasted  than  lost,"  pro- 
nounced in  favor  of  recovering  and  holding  it  by  the 
sword.  This  decision,  sufficiently  criminal  in  itself,  led 
to  others  even  more  so.  The  Venetians  having  secretly 
favored  the  rebellion  of  Volterra,  the  work  of  subjuga- 
tion became  more  difficult,  and  this  again  involved  a 
considerable  outlay  of  money.  In  order  to  meet  the 
expense  incurred,  a  sum  of  100,000  florins  was  with- 
drawn from  the  Monte  delle  Doti^  (Dowry  Bank),  —  a 

1  Repub.  Ital.,  xi.  369.  ^  Cf.  Capponi,  lib.  v.  c  5. 

°  Called  also  Monte  delle  Fanciulle.  Monte  was  the  word  used 
in  Florence  for  a  bank. 


FLORENCE  AND   THE  MEDICI, 


99 


a 


fund  instituted  for  providing  portions  for  orphan  girls  at 
their  marriage,  —  in  consequence  of  which  numbers  of 
girls,  thus  deprived  of  their  dower,  abandoned  them- 
selves to  an  evil  life.  Yet  Lorenzo  took  credit  for  this 
act,  as  having  saved  the  expedition.*  During  the  siege 
of  Volterra  it  was  promised  to  the  inhabitants  that  their 
lives  and  property  should  be  respected  on  condition  of 
their  surrendering.  In  spite  of  this  assurance,  when  the 
Florentine  army  entered  the  gates  the  city  was  sacked, 
the  churches  plundered,  the  men  taken  prisoners,  and 
the  women  ravished.  There  is  reason  to  believe  that 
these  atrocities  were  perpetrated  with  the  sanction  of 
Lorenzo. 

The  conspiracy  of  the  Pazzi,  already  mentioned,  will 
show  that  the  tyranny  of  the  Medici  was  not  acquiesced 
in  by  all  j  but  that  conspiracy  was  originated  far  more 
by  personal  envy  and  hatred  than  by  motives  of  patriot- 
ism, and  it  was  carried  out  in  a  manner  the  least  likely 
to  engage  the  sympathies  of  those  who  most  deeply  re- 
sented the  tyranny  under  which  the  liberties  of  Florence 
were  being  destroyed.  Its  effect  was,  consequently,  and 
quite  naturally,  to  confirm  and  strengthen  the  power  of 
Lorenzo,  who  was  regarded  by  his  sycophants  as  a  mar- 
tyr, and  who  availed  himself  of  the  opportunity  of  put- 
ting down  all  opposition  by  procuring  the  death  and 
banishment  of  his  enemies.  Four  years  after  this  con- 
spiracy Savonarola  came  to  Florence.  We  have  re- 
marked on  the  state  of  the  republic  and  of  the  Church 
which  he  found  there ;  and  we  can  understand  with 
what  feelings  he  regarded  the  family,  and  its  living  and 
ruling  representative,  through  whose  influence  all  that  he 
most  venerated  was  set  at  nou'^ht,  all  that  he  most  de- 


1  See  his  letter  in  Capponi. 


I 


lOO 


SAVONAROLA, 


tested  was  propagated  and  supported.  It  is  important 
to  bear  these  facts  and  considerations  in  mind  while  we 
follow  the  history  of  the  man  who  began  to  feel  that  one 
great  part  of  his  mission  in  Florence  must  be  to  show  a 
strong,  continuous,  and  unyielding  opposition  to  the 
policy  of  its  virtual  ruler,  Lorenzo  the  Mr.gnificent. 


THE  PRIOR  OP  ST.  MARK'S  AND  LORENZO.    lOI 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    PRIOR    OF    ST.    MARK'S    AND    LORENZO    THE 
MAGNIFICENT. 

When  Savonarola  returned  to  Florence  in  1490,*  he 
was  not  unmindful  of  his  failure  as  a  preacher  during 
his  previous  residence  in  the  city,  four  years  before ; 
and  he  had  no  desire  again  to  encounter  the  cold  in- 
difference of  his  fellow-townsmen.  He  was  accordingly 
reinstated  in  his  office  of  Lettore^  and  resumed  his  work 
of  instructing  the  novices  of  the  convent.  But  the  fame 
of  his  work  in  Lombardy  had  gone  before  him  to 
Florence,  and  the  admiration  and  affection  conceived 
for  him  by  Pico  della  Mirandola  speedily  became  known. 

In  order  to  meet  the  wishes  of  those  who  desired  to 
have  the  advantage  of  his  instructions,  he  was  forced 
to  remove  his  lectures  to  the  convent  garden,  where 
they  were  delivered  under  a  rose-tree  which  grew  near 
the  door  of  a  chapel.  Although  this  garden  is  now 
separated  from  the  convent  by  a  narrow  street,  the 
rose-tree  has  been  renewed  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion by  those  who  have  venerated  the  memory  of  the 
teacher.  This  proved  only  a  temporary  arrangement 
His  expositions  of  the  Apocalypse  attracted  so  many 

*  Rudelbach,  Meier,  and  others  give  the  date  as  1489,  follow- 
ing the  custom  of  the  time,  which  made  the  year  begin  on  the 
28th  of  March.  As  a  rule,  the  dates  are  given  here  as  though 
the  year  began  January  i. 


1^ 


loa 


SAVONAROLA, 


0 


hearers  th.it  it  was  found  necessary  to  remove  into  the 
convent  church.  Permission  was  granted  by  Domenico 
da  Finario,  the  prior  of  the  convent.  After  some  re- 
flection, Savonarola  announced  one  Saturday  to  his 
hearers  that  to-morrow  he  siiould  begin  to  preach ;  and 
it  is  said  that  he  added,  he  should  continue  to  preach 
for  eight  years,  —  which  actually  happened. 

The  change  was  greater  than  might  appear.  As  a 
teacher  or  lecturer,  Savonarola  addressed  himself  to  the 
understanding  of  his  hearers,  and  instructed  them  in  the 
meaning  of  the  subject  or  book  which  was  his  theme. 
As  a  preacher  he  spoke,  as  the  ambassador  of  Christ 
and  the  servant  of  God,  to  the  heart  and  conscience  of 
men.  In  the  pulpit  he  was  not  merely  the  teacher,  he 
was  the  prophet.  His  first  sermon  was  preached  on  the 
ist  of  August, —  - soon,  therefore,  after  his  return  to 
Florence,  —  and  his  success  was  assured  from  the  be- 
ginning. The  church  was  so  crowded  that  the  brothers 
had  to  stand  on  the  walls  of  the  choir ;  and  the  effect 
of  the  sermon  was  prodigious.  Savonarola,  referring  to 
it  afterwards,  said  it  was  a  tenible  sermon  (una  predica 
terribile)  ;  and  from  the  account  which  he  has  left,  we 
may  learn  that  he  had  now,  once  and  forever,  taken  up 
that  great  theme  which  was  to  be  the  uninterrupted 
subject  of  his  teaching  and  warnings  so  long  as  he  was 
permitted  to  preach. 

"On  the  1st  of  Aujijust  or  this  year,"  he  says,*  "on  a 
Sunday,  I  began  to  explain  publicly  the  Apocalypse  in  our 
church  of  St.  Mark.  During  the  whole  course  of  that  year 
I  continued  to  set  forth  to  the  Florentines  these  three 
proposition.s :  i .  The  Church  of  God  must  be  renovated, 
and  that  in  our  time.     2.  Italy  is  to  be  scourged  before 

*  Compendio  di  Rcvelatione. 


THE  PRIOR  OP  ST,  MARK'S  AND  LORENZO.     103 

this  renovation.  3.  All  these  things  will  happen  very  soon. 
I  endeavored  to  demonstrate  thcr  three  points  to  my 
hearers,  and  to  persuade  them  by  probable  arguments, 
by  allegories  taken  from  Holy  Scripture,  and  by  other 
similitudes  or  parai)les  drawn  from  what  was  taking 
place  in  the  Church.  I  insisted  upon  reasons  of  this 
kind,  and  I  kept  back  the  knowledge  which  God  gave  me 
of  these  things  by  other  means,  because  men's  minds  did 
not  seem  to  me  at  that  time  in  a  condition  to  understand 
those  mysteries," 

The  same  account  is  given  by  Burlamacr.hi,  who  says 
that  he  began  by  proving  his  three  propositions  from 
reason  and  Scripture,  not  considering  the  people  pre- 
pared to  believe  in  the  visions  by  means  of  which  he 
had  obtained  this  knowledge ;  and  afterwards,  when  he 
saw  in  his  hearers  a  better  disposition,  he  began  to 
make*  known  to  them  the  revelations  which  he  had 
received,  but  by  way  of  parables  and  figuratively. 

The  impression  which  his  preaching  made  upon  all 
classes  was  deep  and  powerful.  Naturally  enough,  it 
was  also  diverse.  Such  ideas  could  not  be  promulgated 
without  exciting  opposition  as  well  as  attracting  attention 
and  interest.  So  it  has  been  with  all  great  teachers. 
Of  the  greatest  of  all  teachers  we  read  that  "  some  said. 
He  is  a  good  man  :  others  said,  Nay ;  but  He  deceiveth 
the  people ; "  ^  and  the  biographer  of  Savonarola  tells 
us  that  when  he  began  his  sermons  at  St.  Mark's,  some 
said  he  was  "  a  simple  and  good  man,"  while  others 
said  he  was  "  learned,  but  most  cunning."  Friends  and 
foes,  men  of  the  world  and  philosophers,  as  well  as 
earnest  and  simple-minded  Christians,  continued  to 
crowd  around  the  pulpit  of  St.  Mark's,  until  it  became 

1  St.  John  vii.  12. 


10 


SAVONAROLA. 


■    I 


evident  that  a  larger  arena  must  be  found  for  his  work 
and  influence. 

Accordingly,  when  the  Lent  of  the  following  year 
(1491)  arrived,  he  was  called  to  preach  in  the  cathedral, 
and  became  at  once  the  accepted  teacher,  the  ac- 
knowledged spiritual  power  of  Florence,  —  a  position 
which  he  retained,  amid  all  the  many  wondrous  vicissi- 
tudes of  fortune  and  condition  through  which  the  great 
city  was  destined  to  pass  during  the  next  seven  years. 
There  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  Savonarola  ever 
wavered  in  his  convictions  with  regard  to  the  main 
propositions  which  h**  had  set  himself  to  proclaim  and 
enforce ;  but  it  appears  clearly  that  he  was  not  at  this 
moment  prepared,  at  all  hazards,  to  force  them  upon 
an  unwilling  audience.*  I7inding  that  in  certain  quarters 
a  very  determined  opposition  was  arising  to  the  subjects 
of  his  preaching,  he  "became  at  times  pusillanimous, 
and  made  up  his  mind  no  longer  to  preach  on  these 
points,"  but  to  restrict  himself  to  the  general  doctrines 
of  morality  and  religion.2 

This  course  soon  proved  unpalatable  and  impossible. 
Everything  which  drew  him  away  from  these  studies 
proved  uninteresting  and  wearisome,  and  filled  him  with 
••  disgust ;  "  so  that  he  began  to  "  hate  himself."  How 
could  he  preach  with  full  conviction  and  power  when 
he  was  not  speaking  of  the  things  of  which  his  heart  was 
full?    Thus  to  preach  would  have  been  to  abandon  his 

*  This  we  learn  from  Burlamacchi  and  from  his  own  Compen- 
dio  di  Revelatione. 

2  According  to  Villari,  this  change  in  his  method  was  brought 
about,  in  part,  by  remonstrances  from  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  and 
others.  As  this  eminent  writer  has  cited  no  authorities  for 
changing  the  ordinarily  received  order  of  these  events,  I  have 
preferred  to  follow  that  given  by  Burlamacchi. 


1'^  I 


I): 


THE  PRIOR  OP  ST.  MARK'S  AND  LORENZO.     105 


mission,  to  give  up  the  special  work  which  he  felt  called 
upon  to  perform.  He  seems  to  have  done  his  very  best 
to  tread  in  the  paths  of  ordinary  preachers ;  but  he  failed 
in  this  attempt.  He  had  resolved  on  one  occasion  that 
he  would  not  preach  on  the  subject  of  the  future  history 
of  the  Church  and  of  Italy ;  but  on  the  Saturday  pre- 
ceding he  found  he  could  think  of  nothing  else.  "  God 
is  my  witness,"  he  says,  "  that  during  the  whole  of  Satur- 
day and  through  the  whole  night  until  the  morning  I 
lay  awake,  and  every  other  way,  every  doctrine  except 
that,  was  taken  from  me.  At  daybreak,  wearied  and  de- 
pressed by  this  long  vigil,  I  heard,  whilst  I  was  praying, 
a  voice  which  said  to  me :  '  Fool,  dost  thou  not  see 
that  God  wills  thee  to  follow  the  same  way?'  And 
so  that  day  I  delivered  a  tremendous  sermon."^  It 
was,  says  his  biographer,  "  a  wonderful  and  stupendous 
sermon." 

From  this  time  he  seems  to  have  struggled  no  more 
against  his  convictions,  —  against  those  voices  which  were 
speaking  in  his  heart,  and  which  dominated  all  his 
thought  and  his  action.  It  was  no  longer  the  teacher 
expounding  the  text  of  Scripture,  and  enforcing  its  pre- 
cepts by  the  arguments  of  reason  and  the  testimonies  Of,' 
experience  and  history,  it  was  the  seer  standing  face  to 
face  with  the  invisible  world,  looking  away  into  the  future, 
near  or  distant,  and  telling  with  passionate  conviction  all 
that  he  saw  and  heard  in  that  sphere  from  which  ordi- 
nary men  were  shut  out.  Nor  did  he  confine  himself  to 
such  general  statements  as  were  contained  in  his  three 
famous  propositions ;  he  ventured  to  predict  particu- 
lar events.  It  was,  apparently,  at  this  time  that  he  an- 
nounced the  near  death  of  Pope  Innocent,  the  coming 

^  Compendium  Revelationum. 


I 


io6 


SAVONAROLA. 


iA 


descent  of  the  French  upon  Italy,  and  the  calamities 
which  were  about  to  befall  the  house  of  the  Medici  and 
Lorenzo  himself. 

Ill  July  of  1 49 1  the  Prior  of  St.  Mark's  died^  and 
Savonarola  was  elected  to  fill  his  place.  It  had  become 
a  custom  in  the  convent  for  the  new  prior  to  go  and 
do  homage  to  the  head  of  the  house  to  which  it  was  so 
deeply  indebted ;  but  Savonarola  saw  in  this  a  danger- 
ous concession,  which  was  at  variance  with  his  sense  of 
independence  as  a  priest.  "I  acknowledge  my  elec- 
tion," he  said,  "  as  the  act  of  God,  and  to  Him  I  will 
pay  my  homage."  The  remonstrances  of  the  monks 
were  of  no  avail.  They  were  met  by  the  simple  ques- 
tion :  "  Is  it  God  or  Lorenzo  who  has  made  me  prior?" 
When  "  The  Magnificent "  heard  of  this  refusal,  he  was 
greatly  excited.  *'  You  see,"  he  exclaimed,  "  a  foreigner 
is  come  into  my  own  house,  and  will  not  even  conde- 
scend to  visit  me."  ^ 

However  deeply  Lorenzo  may  have  resented  this  want 
of  courtesy  or  deference  on  the  part  of  the  new  prior, 
he  was  too  skilled  in  the  arts  of  government  to  manifest 
his  resentment;  and  he  set  himself  to  conciliate  the 
man  whom  he  was  unable  to  command.  Accordingly, 
he  was  often  to  be  seen  at  Mass  in  the  convent  church, 
and  he  further  attempted  to  throw  himself  in  the  way 
of  the  Frate  by  coming  and  walking  in  the  convent  gar- 
den. On  one  occasion  this  happened  while  Savonarola 
was  engaged  in  his  studies ;  and  one  of  the  brethren 
thought  right  to  run  and  tell  the  prior  that  their  bene- 
factor was  walking  in  the  garden  and  probably  expected 
to  see  him.     "Has  he  asked  for  me?"  inquired  the 

1  The  theory  of  Perrens  on  the  original  cause  of  Savonarola's 
antipathy  to  Lorenzo  has  been  examined  in  chapter  iv. 


y. 


I 


THE  PRIOR  OF  ST.   MARK'S  AND  LORENZO.    107 


prior.  "  No,  but  —  "  "  Very  well,  then  j  let  him  con- 
tinue his  walk  as  long  as  he  pleases,"  was  the  reply.  In 
the  eyes  of  a  man  who  so  loved  liberty,  and  saw  in  it 
the  only  hope  and  possibility  of  raising  Florence  out  of 
its  wretched  ungodliness,  frivolity,  and  wickedness,  the 
man  who  was  enslaving  it  could  be  no  object  of  admira- 
tion or  complacency.  To  go  out  of  liis  way  to  recognize 
Lorenzo  further  than  strict  duty  demanded  would  be, 
in  his  judgment,  to  make  himself  the  accomplice  of  one 
whom  he  regarded  as  encouraging  all  the  worst  evils  by 
which  the  city  was  afflicted. 

Lorenzo  was  not  to  be  discouraged.  There  might  be 
other  ways  of  conciliating  a  man  who  was  becoming  a 
power  too  formidable  to  be  ignored.  He  continued  to 
send  gifts  to  the  convent,  which  were  accepted  and 
made  over  to  the  general  funds  of  the  society,  without, 
however,  producing  any  alteration  in  the  manners  or 
attitude  of  the  prior.  He  was  not  ungrateful  for  them, 
but  he  estimated  them  at  their  true  value.  "  The  good 
dog,"  he  said  one  day  in  his  pulpit,  "  always  barks  in 
order  to  protect  his  master's  house ;  and  if  a  thief  comes 
and  throws  him  a  bone  or  anything  else  to  put  him  off 
his  guard,  the  good  dog  takes  it,  but  at  the  same  time 
he  also  barks,  and  bites  the  thief." 

Perhaps,  thought  Lorenzo,  he  dislikes  the  connection 
between  the  giver  and  the  gifts  being  made  so  evident ; 
and  he  caused  a  considerable  amount  of  gold  to  be  de- 
posited in  the  alms-box  of  St.  Mark's  Church.  Savona- 
rola knew  too  well  where  it  came  from  ;  and  separating 
the  smaller  pieces  of  money  placed  in  the  chest,  which, 
according  to  custom,  he  reserved  for  the  needs  of  the 
convent,  he  sent  the  gold  to  the  good  men  {buon'  uomint) 
of  St.  Martin,  to  be  distributed  among  the  poor  of  the 


('. 


io8 


SAVONAROLA. 


V    i 


n 


i;* ! 


city.     And  so,  says  Burlamacchi,  Lorenzo  came  to  see 
"  that  this  was  not  the  soil  to  plant  vines  in." 

It  would  appear,  moreover,  that  Savonarola,  so  far 
from  being  conciliated  by  this  conduct,  did  not  cease 
to  denounce  the  evil  that  was  being  wrought  in  Flor- 
ence by  the  arts  of  the  Medici.  In  spite  of  every  ad- 
vance made  by  Lorenzo,  he  went  on  reproving  the 
vices  of  the  age,  and  threatening  the  great  tribulations 
which  he  saw  coming  upon  the  earth.  Whether  he 
made  direct  allusion  to  the  influence  of  the  man  in  au- 
thority or  not,  his  meaning  was  not  obscure ;  and  Pico 
tells  us  that  Lorenzo,  hearing  that  Savonarola  had  in- 
veighed against  his  tyrannical  customs  and  ways  (/y- 
rannicos  usus),  attempted  to  conciliate  him,  while  a 
number  of  citizens,  "stirred  up,"  says  Burlamacchi, 
"  by  lukewarm  religious,  went  and  urged  him  not  to 
go  on  preaching  in  that  manner."  At  last  Lorenzo 
sent  to  him  five  citizens  of  great  authority  to  entreat 
him,  as  though  they  came  of  their  own  accord,  that 
"  for  the  sake  of  the  common  good  and  peace  of  the 
city,  and  also  for  the  good  of  the  convent,  he  would 
adopt  another  style  of  preaching,  and  one  more  gen- 
eral, and  that  he  would  not  predict  the  future  or  re- 
fer to  particular  things  beyond  what  was  necessary." 
The  names  of  the  five  are  given  by  Burlamacchi,  and 
it  is  possible  that  they  were  chosen  by  Lorenzo  be- 
cause they  were  known  to  be  friendly  to  the  Frate. 
If  this  were  so,  it  would  be  another  proof  of  his  desire 
to  win  him  by  conciliatory  measures.  Be  this  as  it 
may,  all  the  five  were  afterwards  found  among  his  fol- 
lowers. One  name  we  may  mention,  as  we  shall  hear 
again  of  him  who  bore  it,  and  under  circumstances 
of  deep  and  painful  interest,  the  name  of  Francesco 


by 


I 


THE  PRIOR  OF  ST.  MARK'S  AND  LORENZO.     109 


Valori.  When  they  came  into  the  presence  of  Savona- 
rola they  all  but  lost  courage  to  speak,  and  made  their 
appeal  in  a  very  feeble  and  half-hearted  manner.  They 
were  received  with  great  kindness  by  the  Frate.  He 
told  them  that  he  knew  they  were  not  speaking  their 
own  mind,  but  that  of  Lorenzo ;  and  he  gently  rebuked 
them  for  thus  allowing  themselves  to  be  the  instru- 
ments of  another.  He  bade  them  go  and  admonish 
Lorenzo  to  repent  of  his  errors,  as  a  calamity  sent  by 
God  was  now  impending  over  him  and  his  house. 

Again,  it  is  said,  three  other  men  came  to  him  on  the 
same  errand ;  ^  and  he  gave  them  these  words  for  answer : 
"  Tell  Lorenzo  from  me  that  he  is  a  Florentine  and  the 
first  man  in  the  city,  and  I  am  a  foreigner,  a  poor,  mean 
friar.  Nevertheless,  tell  him  that  it  is  he  who  is  to  de- 
part, and  I  who  am  to  remain ;  he  will  go,  but  I  shall 
stay."  Not  knowing  what  to  reply,  they  departed,  and 
delivered  their  message.  Lorenzo,  it  is  said,  remem- 
bered the  warning  in  the  solemn  hour  which  was  then 
drawing  near. 

Resolving  not  to  be  baffled,  the  Magnificent  attempted 
other  means  of  dealing  with  the  unapproachable  friar.  If 
he  could  not  win  him  to  his  side,  he  might,  perhaps,  de- 
stroy his  popularity  and  influence  among  the  people.  For 
this  purpose  he  stirred  up  his  old  rival,  the  Augustinian 
Fr^  Gennazzano,  to  resume  his  preaching.  We  remem- 
ber the  enormous  popularity  achieved  by  this  preacher 
at  the  time  that  Savonarola  was  attempting  to  gain  the 
ear  of  his  five  and  twenty  listeners  in  the  church  of  San 
Lorenzo.  He  must  have  been,  in  some  sense,  a  man  of 
eminence,  although,  as  Burlamacchi  says,  he  was  "more 
endowed  with  eloquence  than  with  holy  doctrine."     Up 

1  Pico  says  he  had  heard  that  these  came  of  their  own  accord. 


no 


SAVONAROLA. 


\    ' 


I 


mM- 


\\\i 


■I. 


m' 


to  this  time  he  had  professed  to  rejoice  in  the  success 
of  Savonarola ;  but  no  sooner  had  he  received  from  Lo- 
renzo the  hint  to  attack  him,  than  he  prepared  to  do  so 
with  all  vehemence.  On  Ascension  Day,  1492/  he 
preached  in  the  church  of  San  Gallo,  after  vespers,  and 
taking  for  his  text  the  words  of  our  Lord,  "  It  is  not 
for  you  to  know  the  times  or  the  seasons  "  {JVon  est 
vesirum  nosse  tempora  vel  momenta)^  he  made  a  most 
violent  attack  upon  Savonarola,  —  denouncing  him  as  a 
false  prophet,  as  a  sower  of  sedition  and  disorder,  and, 
in  short,  proceeded  to  such  lengths  as  to  disgust  his 
audience,  so  that  in  that  one  day  he  almost  entirely 
lost  the  reputation  which  he  had  previously  acquired, 
and  many  of  his  own  friends  fell  away  from  him. 
Next  Sunday  Savonarola  preached  from  the  same  text, 
showing  that  it  was  quite  compatible  with  all  that  he 
had  taught;  so  that  the  attempt  of  Lorenzo  utterly 
failed,  and  left  Savonarola  more  than  ever  master  of 
the  situation. 

Although  Gennazzano  discontinued  his  preaching,  to 
which  those  who  had  now  been  arrested  by  the  enthusi- 
asm of  his  rival  were  little  likely  to  give  heed,  he  pro- 
fessed the  greatest  regard  for  Savonarola,  invited  him  to 
his  convent,  asked  him  to  sing  Mass,  and  joined  with 
him  in  the  celebration,  and  exchanged  ail  kinds  of  cour- 
tesies with  him.  This  was,  however,  only  a  dissembling 
of  his  real  feelings.     It  was  not  easy  for  a  man,  especi- 

1  The  date  given ;  at  present  I  am  unable  to  see  how  this 
can  be  consistent  with  the  time  of  the  death  of  Lorenzo.  If  we 
could  place  this  incident  in  1491,  before  the  appointment  of 
Savonarola  as  Prior  of  St  Mark's,  all  would  be  simple.  Signor 
Villari  avoids  the  difficulty  by  omitting  mention  of  the  year  to 
which  this  Ascension  Day  belongs. 


THE  PRIOR  OP  ST.  MARK'S  AND  LORENZO.     1 1 1 


ally  for  a  man  of  his  character,  who  had  been  regarded 
as  the  greatest  preacher  of  his  time,  to  see  the  relative 
positions  of  himself  and  another  so  suddenly  and  utterly 
changed.  It  was  not  easy  to  forget  the  admiring  crowds 
that  had  hung  upon  his  lips  in  the  Santo  Spirito  nine 
years  before,  while  the  immature  utterances  of  the  Frate 
of  San  Marco  were  resounding  within  the  almost  empty 
walls  of  San  Lorenzo,  and  to  see  with  patience  that 
now,  whilst  he  was  neglected,  all  men  had  gone  after 
that  other.  Hatred  and  the  desire  for  revenge  took 
possession  of  him.  Shordy  afterwards,  going  to  Rome, 
he  not  only  denounced  his  rival  in  private  to  the  Pope, 
but  publicly,  in  a  sermon,  declared  him  to  be  in  league 
with  the  author  of  evil ;  or,  as  Burlamacchi  puts  it,  he 
exclaimed  :  "  *  Burn,  Holy  Father,  burn,  I  say,  this  in- 
strument of  the  devil,  this  scandal  of  the  whole  Church,* 
speaking  openly  of  the  Father  ¥xk  Girolamo."  When 
the  Frate  heard  of  it,  he  only  expressed  the  hope  that 
God  would  forgive  him. 

It  is  creditable  to  Lorenzo  that  he  should  now  have 
abstained  from  any  further  attempts  to  interfere  with 
Savonarola.  Such  a  course  may  have  been  dictated  by 
that  regard  to  policy  which  distinguished  the  more  able 
members  of  his  family  j  and  it  is  most  likely  that  he  had 
other  thoughts,  suggested  by  the  malady  which,  now 
increasing  in  strength,  was  before  long  to  carry  him  off. 
But  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  he  had  conceived  a 
genuine  admiration  for  this  bold  friar  who  would  not 
be  deterred  by  threats  or  blandishments  from  speak- 
ing the  words  which  he  believed  that  God  had  put  in 
his  mouth,  and  who  commended  his  message  by  the 
splendor  of  his  genius  and  the  unfeigned  sanctity  of  his 
life.     It  is  at  least  certain  that  when  Lorenzo  felt  the 


XI3 


SAVONAROLA. 


\\ 


approach  of  the  last  enemy,  he  experienced  an  earnest 
desire  to  see  the  man  whom,  in  his  lifetime,  he  had  vainly 
striven  to  conciliate.  As  his  sickness  increased  he  had 
retired  to  the  villa  at  Careggi  built  by  Cosimo ;  and  it 
became  evident,  early  in  April,  that  he  had  not  long  to 
live.  For  a  time  he  was  able  to  enjoy  the  society  of 
his  friends  and  to  receive  the  visits  of  some  of  the 
more  distinguished  citizens  of  Florence.  The  better 
side  of  his  character  came  out,  as  he  was  withdrawn 
from  the  temptations  of  the  great  city,  and  lost  the 
power  of  gratifying  his  baser  passions.  Those  who  read 
only  the  hymns  in  which  the  undoubtedly  religious  char- 
acter of  his  mind  is  expressed,  would  find  it  impossible 
to  believe  that  he  could  be  the  writer  of  those  Carnival 
Songs  of  which  we  have  already  heard.  Politian,  who 
was  constantly  wi*^h  him  in  these  last  days  of  his  life, 
relates  that  he  called  his  sc  i  Piero  to  him,  and  gave  him 
solemn  counsels  as  to  his  conduct  as  a  citizen  and  as  a 
possible  ruler  of  Florence  in  the  future.  "  Remember," 
he  said,  —  how  little  the  warning  was  heeded,  we 
shall  shortly  be  forced  to  tell,  —  "remember  in  every 
position  to  pursue  that  course  of  conduct  which  strict 
integrity  prescribes,  and  to  consult  the  interests  of 
the  whole  community,  rather  than  the  gratification  of  a 
part." 

As  the  end  drew  near  he  expressed  a  wish  to  see 
Savonarola,  "  because,"  he  said,  "  I  have  never  yet 
found  a  religious  like  him."  ^  "  Tell  him,"  said  Savo- 
narola, when  he  received  the  request,  "  that  I  am  not 
what  he  wants,  because  we  shall  not  be  in  accord ;  and 
therefore  it  is  not  expedient  that  I  come."  "  Go  back 
to  the  prior,"  said  the  Magnificent,  "  and  tell  him  that 

1  Burlamacchi,  p.  37. 


THE  PRIOR  OF  ST.  MARK'S  AND  LORENZO. 


"3 


at  all  events  he  must  come ;  for  I  want  to  be  in  accord 
with  him  and  do  all  that  he  shall  tell  me."  It  is  gener- 
ally known  that  there  are  two  accounts  of  this  inter- 
view, —  that  of  Politian,  who  was  present  at  the  time,  and 
that  given  by  the  younger  Pico  and  Burlamacchi.  Ros- 
coe,  unable  to  see  any  good  in  the  priest  who  would  not 
be  the  mere  tool  of  the  destroyers  of  Florentine  liberty, 
and  hardly  any  evil  in  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  treats 
the  latter  account  as  improbable  and  untrue ;  although 
if  he  had  considered  the  matter  more  maturely,  he 
would  have  found  the  story  told  by  the  friends  and  biog- 
raphers of  Savonarola  much  more  illustrative  of  the 
haughtiness  which  he  ascribes  to  him  than  the  narra- 
tive of  Politian,  which  he  adopts.  It  may  be  possible  to 
show  that  the  contradiction  between  the  two  accounts  is 
not  so  great  as  would  at  first  sight  appear. 
Here  is  Roscoe's  version  of  the  interview  :  — 

"  This  interview  [between  Lorenzo  and  the  elder  Pico] 
was  scarcely  terminated  when  a  visitor  of  a  very  different 
character  arrived.  This  was  the  haughty  and  enthusiastic 
Savonarola,  who  probably  thought  that  in  the  last  moments 
of  agitation  and  of  suffering  he  might  be  enabled  to  collect 
materials  for  his  factious  purposes.  With  apparent  charity 
and  kindness,  the  priest  exhorted  Lorenzo  to  remain  firm 
in  the  Catholic  faith ;  to  which  Lorenzo  professed  his  strict 
adherence.  He  then  required  an  avowal  of  his  intention, 
in  case  of  recovery,  to  live  a  virtuous  and  well-regulated 
life ;  to  this  Lorenzo  also  signified  his  sincere  assent- 
Lastly,  he  reminded  him  that,  if  needful,  he  ought  to  bear 
his  death  with  fortitude.  '  With  cheerfulness,'  replied 
Lorenzo,  '  if  such  be  the  will  of  God.'  On  his  quitting 
the  room,  Lorenzo  called  him  back,  and  as  an  unequivocal 
mark  that  he  harbored  no  resentment  against  him  for  the 
injuries  which  he  had  received,  requested  the  priest  would 

8 


114 


SAVONAROLA, 


bestow  upon  liim  bis  benediction  ;  with  which  he  instantly 
complied,  Lorenzo  making  the  usual  responses  with  a  firm 
and  collected  voice  " 

The  animus  of  this  statement  is  evident ;  *  but  it  is 
with  the  facts  alone  that  we  have  now  to  deal.  Roscoe 
refers  in  a  note  to  a  different  account  of  the  interview 
given  by  Pico,  which  is  **  deserving  of  notice,"  he  says, 
"  only  by  the  necessity  of  its  refutation."  The  account 
of  which  he  speaks  is  given  by  Burlamacchi  as  well  as 
by  Pico,'*  '.vith  different  degrees  of  detail.  We  shall 
reproduce  it  here,  and  consider  briefly  its  internal  prob- 
ability and  its  consistency  with  the  story  given  by  Poli- 
tian.  According  to  the  friends  and  contemporaries 
of  Savonarola,  it  was  at  Lorenzo's  earnest  request  that 
he  came  to  see  him.'      During  the  interview  Lorenzo 

1  Compare  Roscoe's  report  with  Politian's  own  language: 
"  Scarcely  had  Pico  left,  when  Hieronymus  of  Ferrara  entered 
the  chamber,  —  a  man  distinguished  for  his  learning  and  holiness, 
an  eminent  preacher  of  heavenly  doctrine  {insignis  et  doctrina  et 
sanctimonia  vir,  ccclestisque  doctrina  fradicator  egregius)."  And 
Roscoe  professes  to  reproduce  the  testimony  of  PolitianI 

2  Also  by  Barsanti,  Razzi,  and  other  authorities  of  no  less 
credibility. 

8  Burlamacchi  here  adds  that  Lorenzo  said  he  had  three  sins 
to  confess,  for  which  he  asked  absolution, —  the  sack  of  Volterra, 
the  money  taken  from  the  Monte  delle  Fanciulle,  and  the  blood 
shed  in  punishing  those  who  were  implicated  in  the  Pazzi  con- 
spiracy It  has  naturally  been  objected  that  this  could  not  have 
been  known  without  a  violation  of  the  secrecy  of  the  Confes- 
sional. But  it  mu.st  be  noted  that  Pico's  narrative  makes  no 
mention  of  this  incident,  so  that  we  may  safely  regard  it  as 
fabulous.  I  cannot  understand  how  Professor  Villari  has  al- 
lowed it  to  remain  in  his  text,  notwithstanding  his  separate 
note  on  the  subject  (vol.  i.  p.  182).  The  remarks  of  Ranke 
(Historische  biographische  Studien,  s,  350)  seem  quite  conclusive. 


:-.-r.--T-:r-*;- 


THE  PRIOR  OP  ST.  MARK'S  AND  LORENZO.     1 1 5 

became  greatly  agitated,  and  Savonarola,  to  calm  him, 
kept  on  repeating :  "  God  is  good,  God  is  merciful. 
But,"  he  went  on,  '*  you  must  do  three  things."  "  What 
are  they,  father?"  asked  Lorenzo.  The  countenance 
of  Savonarola  became  grave  as,  extending  the  fingers 
of  his  right  hand,  he  replied :  "  First,  you  must  have 
a  great  and  living  faith  in  the  mercy  of  God."  "  In 
that  I  have  the  gieatest  faith."  "  Secondly,  you  must 
restore  all  that  you  have  wrongly  taken  away,  or  instruct 
your  sons  to  make  restitution  for  you."  For  a  moment 
this  demand  seerned  greatly  to  distress  Lorenzo;  but 
at  last,  making  an  effort,  he  signified  his  assent  by  the 
inclination  of  hii  head.  The  third  requirement  was  yet 
to  be  made.  Savonarola  became  still  more  solemn  in 
manner,  and  seemed  to  increase  in  stature,  as  with  ter- 
rible earnestness  he  continued :  "  Lastly,  you  must 
restore  liberty  to  your  native  country  as  it  was  in  the 
early  days  of  the  republic  of  Florence."  It  was  touch- 
ing the  root  of  the  man's  family  pride  and  ambition. 
Summoning  his  remaining  strength,  he  angrily  turned 
his  back  upon  the  friar,  and  refused  to  utter  another 
word.  Savonarola  departed  without  pronouncing  ab- 
solution, and  Lorenzo  died  soon  afterwards,  on  the 
same  day,  April  8,  1492. 

By  those  who  deny  the  accuracy,  even  the  general 
credibility,  of  this  account,  it  is  assumed  that  Politian 
was  present  during  the  whole  of  the  interview,  and 


, 


Whether  we  consider  the  internal  probability  or  the  external 
evidence,  the  whole  story  becomes  clearer  and  more  consistent 
by  the  rejection  of  this  incident.  Lorenzo's  refusal  to  comply 
with  Savonarola's  preliminary  requirements  prevented  any  for- 
mal confession  from  being  made,  so  that  no  absolution  could  be 
given. 


.■a.JWt>'*WMIIWm''»i-t—.w.j 


ii6 


SAVONAROLA. 


heard  all  that  passed  between  the  confessor  and  his 
penitent.  Neither  assumption  can  be  sustained.  Poli- 
tian  himself,  in  his  letter  which  describes  the  last  day 
of  Lorenzo's  life,  states  that  he  several  times  went  into 
an  adjoining  chamber ;  and  Razzi  asserts  expressly  that, 
during  the  interview,  "  the  others  left  the  room."  Be- 
sides, is  it  probable  that  even  the  dearest  friends  of  the 
dying  man  would  be  permitted  to  hear,  or  would  desire 
to  hear,  the  last  words  which  he  spoke  in  confession 
to  a  priest  ?  There  is  indeed  a  certain  agreement  be- 
tween the  two  narratives,  and  Politian's  report  may  refer 
to  the  first  words  which  passed  between  the  two  men. 
It  is  customary,  at  the  beginning  of  a  confession,  to  ask 
and  obtain  the  priest's  blessing;  and  so  much  may 
have  been  seen  before  the  others  quitted  the  chamber. 
And  this  is  all  that  Politian  says.  Of  the  withholding 
of  the  absolution  he  may  have  seen  and  known  nothing. 
If  he  knew  of  it,  as  the  devoted  friend  of  Lorenzo  he 
would  have  been  little  likely  to  record  it. 

M.  Perrens,  indeed,  goes  so  far  as  to  deny  the  inter- 
nal probability  of  the  story  of  the  biographers.  He  says 
that  the  demand  for  the  restoration  of  the  liberties  of 
Florence  is  a  mere  anticipation  of  the  course  of  con- 
duct which  was  afterwards  pursued  by  Savonarola  in  the 
revolutionary  times  which  were  soon  to  follow.  This 
objection  may  safely  be  left  to  the  judgment  of  those 
who  are  acquainted  with  the  whole  history  of  the  pe- 
riod. In  the  very  height  of  the  revolution,  Savonarola 
never  professed  to  be  in  theory  a  republican;  he 
preferred  the  monarchical  form  of  gv/vernment  where  it 
was  possible.  Moreover,  before  the  death  of  Lorenzo,  it 
is  agreed  by  all,  he  denounced  his  influence  as  destruc- 
tive alike  of  the  liberties  of  the  State  and  of  public 


THE  PRIOR  OP  ST.  MARITS  AND  LORENZO,     I17 


morality.  Even  in  the  minutest  details,  th^  account 
of  Savonarola's  friends  is  the  more  probable.  Was  it 
likely  that  he  who  had  refused  to  have  intercourse  with 
"The  Magnificent"  when  he  was  lord  of  Florence, 
would  have  almost  forced  himself  upon  him  when  he 
was  at  the  point  of  death? 

The  death  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici  was  an  event  fruit- 
ful in  consequences  to  his  own  family,  to  Savonarola, 
and  to  the  State  of  Florence.  H?d  he  lived  to  the 
natural  life  of  man,  —  he  was  only  forty-four  years  of 
age  when  he  died, —  how  different  might  have  been 
the  future  history  of  the  republic  and  of  Italy  ! 

In  the  same  year  (1492),  July  25,  Pope  Innocent  VIII. 
died,  and  was  succeeded  by  Alexander  VI.  Events  are 
thickening,  and  we  can  with  difficulty  realize  the  fact 
that  the  wonderful  changes  which  have  now  to  be 
related  should  have  taken  place  within  a  period  of  time 
so  limited. 


f 


II 


<   .1 


^iU    ! 


I 


1$ 


H 


r' 


ii8 


SAVONAROLA, 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  PREACHER   AND   PIERO  DE'   MEDICI, 


The  reputation  of  Savonarola  was  never  at  a  higher 
pitch  than  in  the  first  days  of  the  administration  A  Piero 
de'  Medici.  All  the  attempts  of  Lorenzo  had  failed  to 
silence,  to  intimidate,  or  to  conciliate  the  man  who  felt 
that  he  was  sent  by  God,  and  did  not  owe  his  position, 
as  priest  or  as  prior,  to  human  authority.  He  had  even 
made  a  conquest  of  the  potentate  who  had  Ihought  to 
be  his  master  as  he  was  the  master  of  Florence.  The 
dying  Lorenzo  had  sought  counsel  in  his  last  moments 
of  the  Prior  of  St.  Mark's,  the  terrible  preacher  of  Santa 
Maria  del  Fiore.  If  he  could  thus  influence  the  greatest 
among  them,  whose  word  had  been  as  law  to  the  whole 
people,  how  could  he  be  any  longer  resisted  i 

But  these  were  only  the  effects  of  the  real  and  mighty 
inward  power  which  dwelt  in  the  heart  of  the  man  him- 
self, and  which  made  itself  felt  in  his  every  word  and 
deed  and  gesture.  The  saintliness  of  his  life  was  known 
to  all  by  the  testimony  of  his  brethren  and  by  many  in- 
fallible proofs.  The  clearness  of  his  spiritual  perceptions 
gave  to  his  utterances  a  distinctness  and  a  certainty  which 
could  not  be  mistaken,  and  which  produced  instant  con- 
viction. The  singleness  of  his  aims,  the  high  unworldliness 
of  his  designs,  the  strength  of  his  will,  the  capaciousness 
of  his  intellect,  all  combined  to  make  him  wellnigh  irre- 


.  .•■*-♦ 


THE  PREACHER  AND  PIERO  DE  MEDICI. 


119 


sistible.  He  was  universally  recognized  at  this  time  as 
the  great  spiritual  power  in  Florence,  even  as  some  years 
after  he  became,  in  fact  and  almost  in  name,  the  ruler 
of  the  republic. 

Savonarola's  biographers  seem  to  feel,  rather  than  to 
say,  that  here  was  a  new  starting-point  in  his  marvellous 
career ;  for  his  history  is  the  history  of  Florence.  They 
pause  at  this  crisis  to  speak  of  the  man  himself,  —  of  his 
power  as  a  preacher,  of  his  character,  deportmei.l,  life. 
"  This  great  father,"  says  Burlamacchi,  "  was  endowed 
with  infinite  and  most  rare  virtues.  He  was  benignant 
and  pleasant  with  all,  humble  and  gentle  with  every  one 
of  the  novices,  and  universally  affable  in  conversation. 
The  familiarity  of  his  manner  produced  joy  and  gladness 
in  others ;  and  those  who  once  came  to  know  him  had 
the  greatest  desire  and  avidity  for  his  company ;  and 
when  he  spoke  of  spiritual  things,  no  one  was  able  to 
withdraw  from  his  presence."  To  this  he  added  a  mar- 
vellous power  of  divining  what  was  passing  in  the  minds 
of  others,  as  well  as  of  influencing  their  opinions  and 
judgments.  On  a  certain  occasion  he  discerned  in  one 
of  the  novices  a  desire  to  abandon  the  religious  life.  A 
glance  from  the  prior  told  the  halting  youth  that  his 
thoughts  were  being  interpreted,  and  decided  him  to 
abide  in  his  vocation. 

The  testimony  of  Pico  is  entirely  to  the  same  effect. 
He  was  ever  accessible,  even  to  his  enemies,  and  he  was 
of  wonderful  placability.  Pico  says  it  was  "  native  ; "  but 
we  may  be  permitted  to  doubt  this,  and  to  ascribe  his 
meekness  and  gentleness  to  a  Source  higher  than  nature. 
He  was  never  known  to  utter  a  harsh  or  rough  rebuke, 
or  to  raise  his  voice  in  anger,  or  to  show  a  trace  of 
passion  on  his  countenance,  however  much  he  might 


I20 


,   .SAVONAROLA. 


be  provoked.  He  was  fervent  in  the  denunciation  and 
eradication  of  vices ;  but  in  his  public  admonitions  it 
was  by  gentleness  of  speech,  by  simplicity  of  language, 
rather  than  by  vehemence  or  exaggeration  of  expression, 
that  he  sought  to  carry  conviction  to  his  hearers. 

His  manner  of  life  was  in  keeping  with  the  unworldli- 
ness  of  his  mind.  He  partook  of  the  commonest  food, 
and  ate  the  coarsest  bread  that  he  could  obtain.  If  a 
finer  quality  were  placed  before  him,  he  would  change  it, 
and  give  it  to  some  old  and  feeble  person.  He  was  most 
sparing  in  food  and  drink ;  and  from  this  rule  he  never 
departed,  except  when  he  was  showing  hospitality, — 
a  duty  which  he  never  neglected,  although  he  had  almost 
lost  all  taste  for  it  himself.  His  dress  was  as  plain  as 
his  diet ;  but  although  coarse,  it  was  always  scrupulously 
clean.  He  was  fond  of  repeating  the  words  of  Saint 
Bernard  :  "  That  he  liked  poverty,  but  not  dirt."  ^ 

For  nothing  was  he  more  remarkable  than  for  his 
deep,  earnest,  and  constant  habits  of  devotion.  He 
was  indeed  one  of  those  who  "  pray  without  ceasing." 
If  he  lay  awake  at  night,  he  spent  every  moment  in 
prayer  and  holy  meditation.  Some  of  the  stories  re- 
lated of  him,  in  connection  with  this  habit,  border  upon 
the  miraculous.  On  a  certain  Christmas  Eve,  we  are 
told,  when  lauds  were  being  sung  in  the  church,  his 
body  remained  perfectly  motionless  for  five  hours ;  and 
"  so  entirely  were  his  thoughts  and  affections  absorbed 
in  God  by  the  presence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  that  his  face 
emitted  a  strong  light.  When  the  divine  office  was 
completed,  those  who  returned  to  the  church  testified 
that  even  after  they  had  extinguished  the  lamps,  the  face 
of  Girolamo  shone  in  the  darkness  and  seemed  to  light 

1  Paupertatem  sibi  placere,  non  sordes. 


?'.< 


THE  PREACHER  AND  PIERO  DE'   MEDIC/.       12: 

up  the  choir  of  the  church."  Doubtless,  imagination 
had  some  part  in  producing  these  impressions ;  but  the 
candid  reader  will  confess  the  existence  of  some  extra- 
ordinary depth  of  devotion  in  the  man  who  could  so 
powerfully  influence  his  contemporaries.  Fr4  Silvestro, 
his  most  intimate  friend  among  the  brethren,  declared 
that  more  than  once  he  had  seen  the  figure  of  a  dove 
hovering  over  his  head. 

Yet  the  devotional  and  contemplative  character  of  his 
life  did  not  destroy  its  practical  side,  or  lead  him  to 
dispense  with  the  labor  of  study.  His  own  native  ten- 
dencies were  towards  philosophical  speculation.  We 
have  seen  that  he  regarded  these  tendencies  with  sus- 
picion, fearing  lest  they  should  divert  him  from  the  true 
business  of  the  religious  life.  Yet  he  did  not  allow  him- 
self to  be  driven  into  the  opposite  fanatical  extreme  of  de- 
spising reading  and  study.  He  labored  as  well  as  prayed. 
With  him  also  work  was  worship,  even  as  worship  was 
work.  He  often  quoted  the  saying  of  Saint  Francis  of 
Assisi,  that  a  man's  knowledge  was  in  proportion  to  his 
work,  that  "  a  man  knows  as  much  as  he  vvorks."  ' 

That  such  a  man,  filled  with  an  overwhelming  sense 
of  his  divine  calling  to  speak  forth  the  word  of  truth  in 
an  age  which  had  almost  forgotten  God,  should  prove 
"  mighty  in  word  and  deed,"  was  a  simple  necessity  of 
the  case ;  and  so  we  are  told  his  preaching  was  almost 
miraculous,  "  for  the  rapidity  of  his  utterance,  the 
sublimity  and  greatness  of  the  things  discoursed  upon, 
and  the  elegance  of  his  words  and  sentences  were 
equally  wonderful.  His  voice  was  clear  and  sonorous, 
his  countenance  animated  and  impassioned,  and  his 
gesture  graceful  and  impressive." 

1  Tanto  sa  ciascuno  quanto  opera. 


'f-i   ;rJ 


(  I 


i 


'!♦ 


122 


SAVONAROLA. 


These  testimonies,  his  enemies  allege,  are  those  of 
his  friends  and  admirers.  The  objection  reminds  us  of 
the  well-known  theory  which  professes  to  explain  the 
spread  of  Mahometanism.  The  false  prophet,  it  is  said, 
propagated  his  religion  by  the  sword.  The  retort  is 
just :  How  did  he  get  his  sword  ?  In  the  case  of 
Savonarola,  the  power  which  he  exercised  is  indisputa- 
ble. To  reject  the  testimony  given  to  his  character  and 
work  is  to  admit  the  effect  and  deny  the  only  reasonable 
explanation  of  the  cause. 

The  preaching  of  Savonarola  was  intensely  bibhcal. 
We  have  seen  how  he  ever,  more  and  more,  turned  to 
the  Holy  Scriptures  as  his  favorite  and  supreme  subject 
of  study.  Nearly  all  his  sermons  started  from  the  ex- 
position of  a  passage  drawn  from  the  Bible.  To  us 
many  of  his  explanations  must  seem  far-fetched  and 
fanciful ;  but  it  was  the  manner  of  his  day,  and  he 
adopted  it  on  principle.  His  peculiarities,  as  we  should 
deem  them,  did  not,  however,  consist  in  forcing  the 
Bible  to  prove  that  which  it  did  not  contain,  but  rather 
in  finding  the  recognized  doctrines  of  the  Church  in 
texts  which,  to  ordinary  minds,  seem  to  have  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  them.  But  whether  he  was  a  trust- 
worthy interpreter  or  not,  he  was  always  a  true  and 
earnest  preacher,  speaking  to  the  intelligence,  the  heart, 
the  conscience.  The  words  which  he  spoke  were  spirit 
and  life  and  power.  Whatever  art  and  skill  as  an  orator 
he  possessed  came  from  within,  not  from  without.  He 
was  singularly  destitute  of  what  might  be  called  rhe- 
torical culture  j  and  this  explains  the  failure  of  his  first 
efforts.  The  great  and  burning  thoughts  within  him 
were  laboring  in  vain  for  articulate  expression.  It  was 
only  as  he  saw  more  clearly  the  evils  which  he  was 


THE  PREACHER  AND  PIERO  DE'  MEDICI. 


123 


\  i 


called  to  denounce,  and  the  only  remedy  which  could 
be  successfully  applied,  that  the  clearness  of  his  percep- 
tions came  to  be  expressed  in  his  language ;  and  this 
grew  to  be  well  ordered  by  reason  of  his  severely 
trained  intellect,  and  again  was  set  on  fire  by  his  deep 
conviction,  his  ardent  zeal,  and  his  fervent  love  for  God 
and  man.  Guicciardini,  no  mean  judge,  says  that,  after 
having  read  and  studied  the  sermons  of  Savonarola,  he 
found  them  most  eloquent,  and  of  an  eloquence  that 
was  natural,  and  not  artificial.  He  adds  that  for  ages 
there  had  not  been  seen  a  man  so  learned  in  the  sacred 
writings ;  and  that  whilst  no  one  ever  succeeded  in 
preaching  at  Florence  more  than  two  Lents  without 
wearying  his  hearers,  Savonarola  was  able  to  do  so  for 
many  years,  ever  rising  higher  in  the  estimation  of  the 
people.  Those  who  study  his  sermons  most  carefully 
will  understand  this  criticism,  and  they  will  perceive 
something  of  the  secret  of  his  mighty  power ;  the  power 
itself,  however,  is  a  simple  fact  of  history. 

The  popularity  of  Savonarola  went  on  increasing; 
and  he  was  more  and  more  regarded,  not  only  as  the 
denouncer  of  all  the  frightful  evils  of  the  age,  but  as  the 
steady  and  unflinching  opponent  of  the  enslavers  of 
Florence,  the  Medici.  He  had  predicted  the  death  of 
Lorenzo,  and  his  prediction  had  speedily  been  fulfilled  ; 
also  of  Innocent  VHI.,  and  he  had  died  in  the  same 
year  as  the  Magnificent.  When  Alexander  VI.  ascended 
the  papal  throne,  if  the  need  of  renovation  became 
more  evident,  the  prospect  grew  more  remote.  Nothing 
short  of  some  special  divine  intervention  seemed  capable 
of  bringing  about  the  wished-for  change. 

As  the  power  of  Savonarola  went  on  increasing,  and 
his  influence  was  more  evidently  than  ever  lending  itself 


ffi 


:. 


:4. 


124 


SAVONAROLA. 


to  defeat  the  measures  of  the  ruling  family,  it  was  natural 
and  inevitable  that  he  should  provoke  the  determined 
enmity  of  the  Medicean  party  ;  and  this  opposition  was 
strengthened  by  the  accession  of  those  who  envied  the 
Frate  his  success,  and  perhaps  even  more  by  the  numer- 
ous body  of  ecclesiastics  whose  sensual  and  worldly 
mode  of  life  he  denounced  with  peculiar  energy.  Malig- 
nant men,  "  under  the  instigation  of  the  evil  one,"  lost 
no  opportunity  of  persecuting  him ;  and  among  these, 
"  the  most  bitter  were  the  men  of  the  most  abandoned 
lives,  and  especially  those  prelates  of  the  Church  whose 
disgraceful  lives  were  corrupting  the  whole  world." 

Brooding  on  these  things,  meditating  upon  the  ter- 
rible evils  of  the  age  and  on  his  own  powerlessness  to 
check  them,  the  Frate  looked  ever  more  for  divine 
guidance  and  illumination,  expecting  to  learn  from 
visions  the  will  of  God  and  the  future  of  the  Ch'irch, 
as  he  believed  he  had  done  in  the  past.  The  vision 
did  not  tarry.  In  the  very  year  which  had  witnessed 
the  death  of  the  master  of  Florence  and  of  the  head  of 
the  Church  (1492),  while  he  was  preaching  the  Advent 
sermons,  he  had  a  vision  or  dieam  which  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  regard  as  a  divine  revelation.  In  the  midst 
of  heaven  he  beheld  a  hand  grasping  a  sword,  under 
which  the  words  were  written  :  Gladius  Domini  super 
terratn  cito  et  velociter,  —  "  The  sword  of  the  Lord  upon 
the  earth  quickly  and  swiftly."  At  the  same  time  he 
heard  a  multitude  of  voices  clearly  and  distinctly  prom- 
ising mercy  to  the  good,  and  threatening  punishment  to 
the  wicked,  and  proclaiming  that  the  wrath  of  God  was 
nigh.  Great  thunderings  were  heard  from  heaven, 
weapons  and  fire  seemed  to  fall  from  the  skies,  and  the 
whole  earth  became  a  prey  to  wars  and  pestilences  and 


THE  PREACHER  AND  PIERO  DE'  MEDICI. 


"5 


H 


.3i  '■'       itl 


famines.  As  the  vision  disappeared,  Savonarola  received 
the  command  to  announce  these  chastisements,  to  teach 
men  the  fear  of  God,  to  bid  them  pray  to  the  Lord  to 
send  good  pastors  to  the  Church,  and  finally  to  have  a 
special  care  for  troubled  souls.  This  vision  became  a 
leading  subject  of  his  preaching  and  teaching,  —  we 
might  almost  say,  for  a  considerable  time  its  very  centre, 
—  and  was  represented  in  numerous  pictures  and  medals 
of  the  period. 

It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  Piero  de'  Medici 
should  look  upon  these  doings  with  indifference.  In- 
deed, as  the  matter  would  present  itself  to  his  mind,  it 
must  have  seemed  to  be  now  the  question  whether  he 
or  Savonarola  should  rule  Florence.  His  father,  when 
he  found  that  be  could  not  control  the  speech  and 
action  of  the  Frate,  had  left  him  alone.  He  was  wise 
enough  in  all  things  to  remain  contented  with  the  pos- 
session of  the  substance  of  power,  and  to  dispense  with 
the  form  and  appearance  of  it  when  it  was  inexpedient 
to  contend  for  it.  It  was  for  this  reason  that  he  had 
wisely  preserved  all  the  ancient  forms  of  the  government 
of  the  republic,  while  he  was  in  fact  supreme.  Piero 
was  a  man  of  a  totally  different  spirit.  He  had  all  the 
ambition  and  love  of  power  which  characterized  Cosimo 
and  Lorenzo ;  but  he  was  entirely  destitute  of  their 
policy.  Indeed,  he  was  in  most  ways  a  striking  contrast 
to  his  father,  in  appearance  as  well  as  in  character.  He 
was  a  man  of  a  handsome  and  attractive  person,  and  his 
intellectual  abilities  were  of  no  mean  order.  Politian 
speaks  of  him  as  being  beloved  by  the  citizens,  —  "a  man 
not  less  eminent  for  his  own  glory  than  for  that  of  his 
family ;  combining  the  talents  of  his  father,  the  virtues 
and  great   kindliness  of  his  uncle,  the  probity  of  his 


^' 


126 


SAVONAROLA. 


i'i 


grandfather,  the  prudence  and  piety  of  his  great-grand- 
father; in  short,  the  heart  and  head  of  all  his  noble 
ancestors." 

If  this  description  were  to  be  taken  literally,  we  should 
be  forced  to  conclude  that  Piero  made  a  miserable 
use  of  his  advantages.  He  had,  however,  considerable 
abilities.  His  memory  was  remarkably  retentive ;  he 
had  a  ready  wit,  and  improvised  verses  with  the  greatest 
ease,  and  showed  himself  a  friend  and  patron  of  litera- 
ture. But  he  knew  too  little  of  the  spirit  of  the  people 
of  Florence,  and  forgot  that,  while  they  might  part  with 
the  substance  of  liberty,  they  were  attached  to  the  form. 
Piero  had  all  the  haughtiness  of  the  Orsini,  his  mother's 
family,  and  was  rude  and  rough  in  his  manners,  —  in  this 
respect  presenting  a  striking  and  unpleasing  contrast  to 
his  father.  Sometimes  he  would  break  into  violent  fits 
of  passion  at  the  slightest  opposition,  and  make  it  too 
evident  that  in  carrying  out  his  own  wishes  he  had 
litde  regard  for  those  of  others. 

Such  conduct  was  more  offensive  to  the  Florentines 
than  an  open  violation  of  their  laws.  Lorenzo  had  be- 
sought his  son  to  remember  that,  whatever  his  power 
and  influence  might  be,  he  was  "only  a  citizen  of 
Florence."  This  had  never  been  forgotten  by  Cosimo, 
Pater  Patrice,  no/  by  Lorenzo  himself;  and  the  citizens 
were  flattered  by  the  thought  that  the  grea^^est  among 
them  was  still  one  of  themselves.  For  such  feelings 
Piero  entertained  and  exhibited  no  respect.  The  ap- 
pearances of  liberty  which  his  father  had  carefully 
preserved,  even  while  he  was  undermining  the  reality, 
the  son  proceeded  deliberately  to  destroy.  The  widest 
disaffection  began  to  spring  up  throughout  tne  whole 
State.    The  leaders  of  the  people,  who  had  willingly 


m 


<H 


THE  PREACHER  AND  PIERO  DE"  MEDICI.       127 

followed  Lorenzo,  now  secretly  or  openly  fell  away  from 
his  son  ;  and  a  party,  continually  increasing  in  numbers 
and  influence,  was  being  formed  against  him.  Savona- 
rola, unintentionally,  perhaps  unconsciously  to  himself, 
was  regarded,  if  not  as  the  head,  yet  as  the  heart  of  this 
party ;  and  he  was  looked  upon  by  Piero  as  his  most 
dangerous  adversary.  It  was  in  the  midst  of  these 
growing  antagonisms  that  the  crowds  at  the  cathedral 
first  heard  the  terrible  announcement  of  the  sword  of 
the  Lord  coming  speedily  and  swiftly  upon  Italy. 

Piero  could  not  be  expected  to  look  on  with  equa- 
nimity while  the  discontent  of  the  people  was  finding 
expression  in  the  first  pulpit  of  Florence,  and  gathering 
strength  from  the  warnings  which  were  there  proclaimed. 
He  saw  that  in  the  Prior  of  San  Marco  lay  the  greatest 
danger  for  himself  and  his  authority.  But  he  had 
neither  the  prudence  nor  the  self-control  of  Lorenzo. 
The  Magnificent,  when  he  could  neither  repress  nor 
conciliate  the  preacher,  would  have  allowed  the  move- 
ment which  he  guided  to  spend  its  force,  would  have 
temporized  where  he  could  not  command.  Piero  was 
too  impatient  and  imperious  to  submit  to  such  delay. 
He  could  not  silence  the  preacher  or  withdraw  the 
people  from  listening  to  him  ;  and  therefore  he  used  his 
influence  with  his  superiors  in  Rome  and  Milan  to  have 
him  removed  for  a  season  from  Florence.  This  measure 
filled  the  brethren  with  grief  and  dismay.  The  prior 
alone  was  calm,  resigned,  hopeful.  He  was  grateful 
for  their  affection,  he  told  them ;  but,  he  said,  "  if  you 
are  too  much  cast  down,  if  you  begin  to  think  that 
you  cannot  live  without  me,  your  love  is  yet  imper- 
fect, and  therefore  God  has  taken  me  from  you  for  a 
season."     This  was  in  the  beginning  of  1493,  and  the 


J 


M 


! 


«!) 


'■' 


128 


SAVONAROLA. 


same  year  we  find  him  preaching  the  Lent  sermons  at 
Bologna. 

The  Bentivoglio  family  were  still  possessed  of  supreme 
authority  in  Bologna.  He  found  himself  hampered  by 
the  circumstances  of  the  city,  and  lost  much  of  the 
power  and  fervor  which  had  marked  his  sermons  at 
Florence.  They  called  him  a  "  simple  man  and  a  ladies* 
preacher"  Still,  his  fame  drew  multitudes  to  hear  him  ; 
and  among  the  congregation  there  appeared  the  wife  of 
Bentivoglio.  This  lady  habitually  came  late  into  the 
church,  bringing  with  her  a  large  retinue  of  attendants, 
who  greatly  interrupted  the  preacher  and  disturbed  the 
people.  Savonarola  was  unwilling  to  take  needlessly 
offensive  measures  to  abate  this  nuisance  ;  so,  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  interruptions,  he  contented  himself  with 
merely  finishing  his  sermon,  or  rather,  with  leaving  off 
preaching.  This  tacit  rebuke  proved  insufficient.  Then 
he  would  pause  in  his  sermon,  and  remark  on  the  im- 
propriety of  disturbing  the  faithful  during  their  religious 
exercises.  This  indirect  rebuke  only  inflamed  the  anger 
of  the  b''y.  She  continued  to  come  late,  and  every  day 
with  more  noise,  as  if  in  contempt  of  his  remonstrances. 
At  last  it  became  intolerable.  One  morning,  while  he 
was  preaching  with  great  energy  and  fervor,  the  usual 
interruption  occurred.  Then  his  indignation  broke  forth. 
"  Behold,"  he  exclaimed,  "  how  the  devil  comes  to 
interrupt  the  word  of  God."  The  proud  wife  of  Ben- 
tivoglio in  a  rage  gave  orders  to  her  followers  to 
despatch  the  insolent  preacher  in  the  pulpit ;  but  even 
they  shrank  from  the  commission  of  such  a  crime.  The 
delay  brought  her  no  better  thoughts.  She  ordered  two 
of  her  servants  to  find  him  out  in  his  cell,  and  inflict 
some  grievous  injury  upon  him.     Savonarola  encoun- 


THE  PREACHER  AND  PIERO  DB   MEDICI.       129 

tered  them  with  such  calmness  and  dignity,  and  spoke 
to  them  with  such  an  air  of  authority,  that  they  listened 
respectfully,  and  departed  in  confusion.  Happily,  it  was 
near  the  end  of  Lent,  and  he  had  soon  to  depart  from 
Bologna.  He  would  not  have  it  supposed  that  the  ser- 
vant of  God  was  driven  from  his  place  by  fears  for  his 
personal  safety.  His  parting  words  from  the  pulpit  de- 
clared his  unwavering  confidence  in  God  and  in  his  mis- 
sion. "This  evening,"  he  said,  "I  shall  take  my  way 
to  Florence  with  my  staff  and  my  wooden  flask,  and  I 
shall  lodge  at  Pianoro.  If  any  one  has  business  with 
me,  let  him  come  to  me  before  I  leave.  Know,  however, 
that  my  death  will  not  take  place   at  Bologna." 

Florence  was  now  ever  his  nrst  and  deepest  thought. 
Even  during  the  time  of  his  anxious  work  at  Bologna, 
he  never  forgot  his  beloved  brethren  and  sons  of  San 
Marco  They  were  longing  for  his  return,  and  he  wrote 
to  them  frequently  in  a  spirit  of  the  most  tender  affec- 
tion. Sometimes  in  general  terms  he  exhorted  them  to 
keep  themselves  above  and  apart  from  this  present 
world.  Sometimes  he  would  descend  to  the  minute 
details  of  their  daily  life.  Those  who  knew  only  the 
preacher,  "mighty  in  the  Scriptures,"  knew  only  half 
the  man.  It  was  in  the  words  of  loving  wisdom  which 
he  spoke  to  his  brethren  that  all  his  beautiful  simplicity, 
all  his  tender  love  for  the  souls  of  men,  all  his  deep 
devotion  to  the  work  of  God,  found  most  attractive 
expression. 

On  'lis  way  back  to  Florence  many  thoughts  occupied 
his  mind  respecting  the  state  of  the  city,  the  growing 
enmity  against  the  Medici,  the  difficulties  which  beset 
his  future  work.  Villari  thinks  that  the  vision,  which  is 
related  to  have  occurred  on  his  former  return  to  Flor- 

9 


i 


li.^ 


% 


130 


SAVONAROLA, 


ence,  took  place  at  this  time.  There  is  one  circum- 
stance in  favor  of  this  supposition.  The  words  which 
his  supernatural  guide  is  said  to  have  addressed  to  him, 
when  he  parted  from  him  at  the  gate  of  San  Gallo,  would 
certainly  seem  better  suited  to  this  crisis  in  his  history. 
"  Remember,"  he  said,  as  he  vanished  from  his  sight, 
"  remember  to  do  that  for  which  thou  art  commissioned 
of  God."  That  he  who  believed  himself  to  have  pecu- 
liar intercourse  with  the  invisible  world  should,  at  this 
period  of  his  history,  have  had  such  a  vision  or  dream, 
will  seem  quite  reasonable.  Be  this  as  it  may,  it  can 
hardly  be  doubted  that  it  was  with  thoughts  like  these, 
and  under  the  influence  of  the  emotions  which  they 
would  excite,  that  he  now  returned  to  Florence.  Grave 
events  were  coming  near;  and  he  had  to  prepare,  as 
best  he  could,  to  meet  them  in  the  strength  of  God, 


If  f 


Mm 
11  i 


MONASTIC  REFORM. 


131 


i  <!     4  I  v.>*     •, 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


I 


MONASTIC   REFORM. 

We  have  already  seen  clearly  that  Savonarola  hoped 
for  a  reformation  of  the  clergy  as  a  means  towards  the 
renovation  of  the  Church.  This  was  the  very  fountain 
of  the  evil,  that  the  leaders  of  the  blind  were  themselves 
blind.  The  bitter  fountain  could  not  give  forth  sweet 
waters.  But  the  greatest  evil,  in  the  view  of  the  ardent 
reformer,  was  the  corruption  of  the  monasteries.  The 
greatest  and  most  bitter  sorrow  of  his  heart  had  been 
aroused  by  discovering  that  the  vices  of  the  outer  world 
had  penetrated  into  the  very  heart  of  the  "religious  life  " 
in  the  convent. 

From  the  moment  that  he  was  appointed  Prior  of 
San  Marco,  he  had  entertained  the  purpose  of  effecting 
that  thorough  reform  which  he  saw  to  be  of  absolute 
necessity.  Removed  for  a  season  from  the  daily  care 
of  the  society  whose  head  he  was,  he  had  probably  more 
leisure  to  meditate  on  its  general  condition,  circum- 
stances, and  needs.  If  the  monks  and  friars  were  to  be 
reformed,  if  he  proclaimed  the  necessity  of  this  reform, 
how  could  he  abstain  from  the  endeavor  to  begin  this 
reformation  at  home  ?  If  anything  were  needed  to 
deepen  his  convictions  and  strengthen  his  resolves,  he 
found  it  in  all  that  he  heard  of  the  city  while  he  was 
absent  from  it,  in  all  that  he  saw  when  he  returned. 


I 


132 


SAVONAROLA. 


I  i 


I 


\  i 


In  a  sermon  which  he  preached  in  the  Advent  of 
1493  he  speaks  of  the  frightful  corruption  prevailing 
among  the  clergy.  After  giving  one  example  of  the  evils 
which  he  deplores,  he  exclaims,  — 

"  All  the  cities  of  Italy  are  full  of  these  horrors.  If  you 
knew  all  that  I  know, — things  disgusting,  things  horrible  !  — 
you  would  shudder.  When  I  think  of  all  this,  —  of  the  life 
which  is  led  by  the  priests,  —  I  cannot  restrain  my  tears. 
How  do  they  protect  their  sheep  ?  I  will  tell  you  in  a  word, 
without  lacking  respect  for  those  who  are  good.  The  evil 
pastors  have  made  themselves  mere  instruments  for  leading 
the  sheep  into  the  jaws  of  the  wolf." 

Again  he  exclaims,  — 

"  O  prelates !  O  supports  of  the  Church  !  look  upon  that 
priest  who  goes  tricked  out  with  his  finery  and  his  per- 
fumes. Go  to  his  house,  and  you  will  find  his  table  loaded 
with  plate,  like  the  tables  of  the  great,  —  the  rooms  adorned 
with  carpets,  with  hangings,  with  cushions.  They  have  so 
many  dogs,  so  many  mules,  so  many  horses,  so  many  orna- 
ments, so  much  silk,  so  many  servants  !  Can  you  believe 
that  these  fine  gentlemen  will  open  for  you  the  Church  of 
God  ?  Their  cupidity  is  insatiable.  Look  !  in  the  churches 
everything  is  done  for  money.  The  bells  are  rung  from 
covetousness  !  They  resound  only  'money,  bread,  and 
candles.'  The  priests  go  into  the  choir  to  get  money;  to 
vespers,  to  the  other  offices,  because  at  these  the  money  is 
distributed.  See  if  they  are  at  matins  !  No ;  because  there 
is  no  distribution  then.  They  sell  benefices,  f^ey  sell  the 
sacraments,  they  sell  the  marriage-mass,  they  do  everything 
from  covetousness ! " 

There  are  some  charges  in  the  sermon  which  are  too 
gross  to  be  repeated  here.  Yet  these  charges  were  un- 
doubtedly true,  and  it  was  needful  that  they  should  be 


MONASTIC  REFORM. 


133 


publicly  made  by  one  who  was  resolved  upon  the  work 
of  reform. 

The  difficulty  in  the  way  of  effecting  a  thorough  re- 
form in  his  own  convent  arose  in  great  measure  irom 
the  fact  that  the  Tuscan  congregation  of  the  Dominican 
order  was  united  with  the  Lombard,  and  was  subject  to 
the  Father  Provincial  of  Lombardy.  In  consequence 
of  this  state  of  things,  it  was  possible  for  the  enemies  of 
Savonarola  at  any  time,  by  means  of  the  authorities  of 
Lombardy  or  of  Rome,  to  procure  at  least  his  temporary 
removal  from  Florence.  It  had  not  always  been  so. 
Previously  to  the  great  plague  which  had  devartated 
Tuscany,  the  two  congregations  had  been  separate ;  and 
they  had  been  united,  in  consequence  of  the  desolation 
of  the  convents  caused  by  that  calamity,  in  the  year 
1448.  Now  that  the  numbers  of  the  religious  had 
greatly  increased,  there  ought  to  be  no  difficulty  in  sepa- 
rating them  again ;  and  Savonarola  set  himself,  with  all 
his  energies,  to  restore  the  independence  of  the  Tuscan 
congregation.  The  Frate  on  this  occasion  showed  that 
he  was  not  only  a  great  speaker,  but  an  able  doer,  —  as 
great  in  organization  and  administration  as  in  the  power 
of  influencing  men  by  his  spoken  words.  By  the  vigor 
with  which  he  took  his  measures  he  prevented  opposition 
to  his  scheme  being  organized  by  his  enemies. 

It  is  indeed  wonderful  that  Piero  de'  Medici  should 
not  have  perceived  that  a  most  heavy  blow  was  being 
aimed  at  his  own  authority,  and  that  his  great  adversary 
was  achieving  an  independence  which  was  sure  to  be  used 
against  himself.  It  was  only  in  this  very  year  that  Piero 
had  used  for  his  own  purposes  the  power  possessed  by 
the  Father  Provincial,  so  as  to  have  Savonarola  removed 
during  Lent  to  Bologna.     It  was  another  proof  of  his 


li 


ni   '^1 


% 


I 

,1 

i 


i'     \i 


1 


11  1 

1 


134 


SAVONAROLA. 


dissimilarity  to  his  father  that  he  allowed  himself  to  be 
persuaded  into  supporting  the  request  which  Savonarola 
was  now  making.  He  went  so  far  as  to  instruct  the 
Florentine  ambassador  at  Rome  to  give  it  his  warmest 
support,  and  to  solicit  the  influence  of  the  Cardinal  of 
Naples  on  the  same  side.*  Savonarola  was  not  contented 
with  forwarding  his  petition  and  obtaining  this  powerful 
support  to  his  cause.  He  immediately  sent  to  Rome 
two  of  the  members  of  the  brotherhood  of  St.  Mark,  Fri 
Alessandro  Rinuccini,  a  member  of  one  of  the  principal 
families  of  Florence,  and  Fri  Domenico  da  Pescia,  his 
first  disciple.  This  sincere  and  constant  friend  of  Savo- 
narola was  the  most  remarkable  of  all  his  fellow-workers. 
Ardent  and  daring,  he  was  a  man  of  intense  simplicity, 
of  deep  and  living  faith,  and  of  absolute  and  ertire  de- 
votion to  his  superior.  Of  the  divinity  of  his  master's 
mission  he  never  seems  to  have  entertained  even  a 
momentary  doubt. 

It  was  no  easy  matter  to  obtain  their  request.  The 
Lombards,  powerfully  aided  by  Ludovico  Sforza,  made 
the  most  strenuous  opposition  to  the  separation ;  so  that 
the  friends  of  Savonarola  wrote  and  told  him  that  they 
had  no  hope  of  succeeding.  "  Do  not  doubt,"  was  his 
answer ;  "  be  brave,  and  you  will  have  the  victory ; 
*  the  Lord  .  .  .  maketh  the  devices  of  the  people  to  be 
of  none  effect,  and  casteth  out  the  counsels  of  princes.*  " 
And,  in  fact,  the  victory  was  obtained  by  what  would  be 
called  a  strange  accident,  which  must  have  appeared 


*  Villari  has  remarked  that  his  advocacy  of  the  cause  of  the 
Dominicans  was  the  more  astonishing  as  he  had  always  favored 
their  rivals,  the  Franciscans.  He  suggests  that  he  may  have  been 
influenced  by  his  dislike  to  the  governor  of  Lombardy,  Ludovico 
"IlMoro." 


MONASTIC  REFORM. 


135 


nothing  short  of  a  providential  interposition.  It  was 
obtained  at  a  moment  when  hope  was  at  its  lowest 
ebb. 

On  the  22d  of  ?.tay.  1493,  the  Pope  dismissed  the 
Consistory,  in  cons.iquence  of  fatigue,  declaring  that  he 
would  transact  no  more  bu:5iness  on  that  day.  The 
Cardinal  of  Naples  alone  remained  with  him ;  and 
believing  that  he  had  found  a  moment  suitable  for 
urging  the  claims  of  the  Tuscans,  brought  forth  the 
brief  authorizing  the  separation,  and  entreated  the  Fope 
to  confirm  it.  After  some  pleasantries  and  altercation 
on  the  subject,  the  Cardinal  in  play  snatched  the  Pope's 
ring  from  his  linger  r:nd  sealed  the  brief.  Hardly  had 
this  been  accomplished  when  the  most  urgent  remon- 
strances arrived  from  the  Lombards,  entreating  the  Pope 
to  refuse  his  consent  to  the  measure.  But  the  Pope 
had  heard  enough  of  the  matter,  and  refused  to  reopen 
it.  "  That  which  is  done,  is  done,"  he  made  answer ; 
and  the  Tuscan  congregation  was  now  independent,  of 
Lombardy. '  Even  the  entreaties  of  Piero  himself,  who 
began  too  late  to  perceive  the  mistake  he  had  com- 
mitted, were  unavailing. 

The  Pope's  sanction  had  not  come  a  moment  too 
soon.  The  Father  Provincial,  foreseeing  the  possibility 
of  defeat,  had  sent  an  order  to  Savonarola  and  his  prin- 
cipal adherents  to  quit  San  Ma'-co  instantly,  and  to  dis- 
perse themselves  among  certain  other  convents,  subject 
to  his  jurisdiction,  which  he  named.  It  was  intended 
that  these  instructions  should  reach  St.  Mark's  before 
the  papal  brief  arrived ;  and  in  that  case,  there  would 
have  been  an  end  to  all  the  prior's  plans  of  reform. 
Again  he  was  favored  by  a  happy  circumstance,  which 
was  also  naturally  attributed  to  the  interposition  of 


136 


SAVONAROLA. 


Divine  Providence.  The  order  had  been  addressed  to 
the  Superior  of  the  convent  of  Fiesole,  to  be  communi- 
cated to  those  concerned.  Through  his  absence  from 
home,  and  the  neglect  of  his  representatives,  it  did  not 
reach  St.  Mark's  for  more  than  a  week  afterwards.  It 
was  then  of  no  avail,  as  the  deed  of  separation  had 
arrived.  It  has  been  suggested  that  even  if  it  came  in 
time,  Savonarola  may  have  delayed  opening  it,  suspect- 
ing its  contents.  This  is  not  impossible  ;  but  it  seems 
likely  that  it  actually  arrived  after  the  papal  brief. 

It  was  now  time  to  begin  the  work  of  reorganization 
and  reform.  Savonarola  was  at  once  elected  anew  as 
Prior  of  St.  Mark's,  and  a  number  of  convents  asked  to 
be  admitted  into  the  new  congregation.  First  among 
them  was  the  convent  of  San  Domenico  of  Fiesole  ;  and 
this,  after  intervals  shorter  or  longer,  was  followed  by 
many  others,  some  of  them  adhering  spontaneously, 
others  constrained  by  a  little  gentle  pressure.  To  make 
the  new  congregation  complete,  the  prior  convoked  a 
union  of  the  various  bodies,  to  arrange  their  rules  and 
to  elect  a  superior.  At  this  meeting  he  was  unanimously 
chosen  Vicar- General ;  and  he  held  this  new  dignity, 
with  his  accustomed  gentleness  and  humility,  to  the  end 
of  his  life. 

From  what  we  have  read  of  Savonarola's  own  char- 
acter and  habits,  and  of  the  indignation  with  which  he 
spoke  of  the  luxury  and  self-indulgence  of  the  clergy, 
we  are  prepared  to  hear  that  this  was  the  first  object  of 
his  attack,  and  the  first  subject  of  reform.  The  Domini- 
cans had  been  a  mendicant  order ;  but  there  seems  to 
have  been  always  some  uncertainty  as  to  the  extent 
to  which  they  might  become  possessed  of  property. 
Savonarola  himself  appears  to  have   wavered   on  the 


P 


MONASTIC  REFORM. 


137 


subject ;  but  on  one  point  he  had  no  doubt  whatever. 
He  vas  convinced  that  the  Church  ought  to  possess  no 
more  than  was  actually  necessary.  We  have  seen  how 
he  acted  on  this  conviction,  even  with  respect  to  the 
giving  of  alms.  It  was  not  fitting  that  the  profuse 
bounty  of  Lorenzo  should  be  distributed  by  the  members 
of  his  society ;  he  made  it  over  to  the  BuorC  uomini  of 
San  Martino.  But  there  were  great  difficulties  in  giving 
full  expression  to  his  convictions  with  respect  to  the 
Vow  of  Poverty,  especially  having  regard  to  the  past 
history  of  St.  Mark's. 

At  one  time  he  had  formed  the  plan  of  retiring  to  a 
solitary  mountain  with  his  brethren,  and  there  living 
a  life  of  solitude  and  poverty.  He  had  even  chosen 
Monte  Cane,  near  Careggi,  for  that  purpose ;  but  how- 
ever this  scheme  might  have  commended  itself  to  his 
tastes  it  was  at  once  apparent  that  it  must  defeat  all  his 
larger  designs  for  the  renovation  of  the  Church.  It  is 
said  that  he  gave  way  to  the  remonstrances  of  the 
younger  friars,  and  to  objections  arising  from  the  un- 
healthy character  of  the  locality ;  but  there  were  doubt- 
less graver  reasons  for  his  change  of  purpose. 

Upon  the  walls  of  St.  Mark's  were  written  the  last 
terrible  words  of  Saint  Dominic,  in  which  he  denounced 
those  who  should  introduce  among  his  disciples  the 
holding  of  property.  "  Have  charity,  preserve  humility, 
possess  voluntary  poverty;  may  my  malediction  and 
that  of  God  fall  upon  him  who  shall  bring  possessions 
into  this  order,"  The  words  still  stood  written  upon 
the  cloister  walls ;  but  they  had  been  disregarded  since 
the  days  of  Sant'  Antonino.  By  a  new  rule  the  convent 
had  been  declared  capable  of  holding  property ;  and 
since  that  time  had  become  very  wealthy.     Savonarola 


!>1 

II 


!?  .?  i 


I 


M,  ! 


Ml 


138 


SAVONAROLA. 


determined  to  return  to  the  original  constitution.  He 
began  by  selling  all  the  property  of  the  society,  and  thus 
cut  off  at  once  its  too  abundant  supplies.  Hence  it 
became  necessary,  in  other  ways,  to  provide  iox  their 
needs. 

As  a  first  measure  for  reducing  the  expenditure,  he 
required  the  friars  to  wear  less  costly  clothing;  he 
made  their  cells  simpler  and  less  ornate ;  he  forbade 
them  to  possess  illuminated  books,  gold  and  silver 
crucifixes,  and  the  like.  But  his  reforms  on  the  posi- 
tive side  were  no  less  important.  He  designed  that 
they  should  live  by  the  labors  of  their  own  hands ;  and 
so  introduced  the  study  of  painting  and  sculpture,  and 
the  art  of  writing  and  illuminating  manuscripts.  These 
occupations  were  assigned  to  the  lay  brethren  and  to 
those  of  the  clerical  brethren  who  were  less  advanced 
in  the  spiritual  life ;  while  the  cure  of  souls,  the  hear- 
ing of  confessions,  and  preaching,  were  reserved  for  the 
more  advanced. 

He  was  peculiarly  anxious  to  raise  the  standard  of 
education  in  his  convent,  and  more  particularly  of  the 
education  that  would  fit  the  brethren  for  being  able 
dispensers  of  the  word  of  God.  For  this  reason  he 
made  prominent  three  subjects  of  study,  —  theology, 
dogmatic  and  controversial;  morals  and  the  canons; 
and  especially  the  study  of  Holy  Scripture.  To  these 
he  added  a  subject  which  at  the  time  was  even  less 
common,  —  the  study  of  Oriental  languages. 

The  difficulty  of  carrying  out  changes  and  reforms 
so  sweeping  was  greatly  lessened  by  the  conviction  of 
the  Superior's  sincerity  and  earnestness,  produced  by 
his  own  manner  of  life.  He  imposed  no  restraints 
upon   others    which    he   had  not  for    long    willingly 


'f 


MONASTIC  REFORM. 


139 


accepted  himself;  he  prescribed  no  rules  of  life  which 
he  had  not  already  more  powerfully  recommended  by 
his  own  obedience ;  and  for  a  time,  at  least,  it  seemed 
that  the  whole  convent  had  caught  his  enthusiasm 
and  become  partakers  of  his  ascetic  spirit.  And  this 
enthusiasm  not  only  gave  a  powerful  stimulus  to  the 
studies,  the  labors,  and  the  devotions  of  the  friars, 
it  spread  beyond  the  walls  of  the  convent,  until  men 
of  the  noblest  families  of  Florence  came  forward  and 
prayed  to  be  admitted  into  the  number  of  the  brethren. 
A  whole  convent  offered  to  change  its  rules  for  those 
of  St.  Mark,  and  to  become  incorporated  into  the  so- 
ciety presided  over  by  Yrk  Girolamo.  The  terms  of 
the  papal  brief  had  given  no  such  authority  to  Savo- 
narola; and  he  declined  their  application,  resolved 
to  give  no  occasion  to  his  enemies  to  bring  charges 
against  him  of  overstepping  his  own  province  and 
powers.  Indeed,  he  had  difficulties  enough  with  the 
houses  belonging  to  his  own  order;  some  of  them 
disliking  the  separation  from  Lombardy,  others  prob- 
ably shrinking  from  the  more  stringent  discipline  to 
which  they  were  being  subjected. 

His  own  labors  were  manifold.  He  was  constantly 
consulted  by  those  who  needed  guidance  in  their  per- 
plexities. He  gave  himself  only  four  hours  of  sleep ; 
so  much  time  was  of  necessity  consumed  in  the  work 
of  governing,  in  carrying  on  an  extensive  correspond- 
ence, in  prayer  and  meditation,  in  the  study  of  the 
Scriptures,  in  the  preparation  of  his  sermons.  His  life 
was  the  most  simple  of  all;  and  he  shrank  from  no 
occupation  and  from  the  performance  of  no  duty  or 
service  in  the  convent,  however  menial,  which  he  im- 
posed upon  others. 


1' 


if 

I  :! 

i 

\  n 


% 


140 


SAVONAROLA. 


Burlamacchi  gives  a  striking  account  of  the  con- 
ventual life  of  this  period  at  St.  Mark's. 

"After  dinner,"  he  says,  "they  took  a  moment's  re- 
pose; then  they  gathered  cheerfully  around  the  father, 
who  explained  to  them  some  passage  of  the  divine  Scrip- 
tures. Then  they  took  a  short  walk,  and  reclined  for  a 
time  in  the  shade  while  the  father  brought  some  passage 
from  the  sacred  books  before  them  as  a  subject  of  medi- 
tation. Then  he  made  them  sing  a  hymn  in  honor  of 
our  Lord,  or  took  from  the  lives  of  the  saints  a  theme 
for  discourse.  Sometimes  he  would  invite  them  to  dance, 
and  accompany  them  with  his  voice.  ...  In  the  evening 
they  often  chanted  psalms  and  hymns  with  greut  fervor. 
They  would  attire  a  young  novice  so  as  to  represent  the 
child  Jesus  ;  and  sitting  around  him,  they  would  all  give 
him  their  hearts,  and  ask  some  favor  of  him  for  themselves 
or  others." 

He  was  a  father  in  the  midst  of  a  loving  and  trusting 
family,  or  perhaps  rather  an  elder  brother  whom  all 
reverenced  and  loved.  He  lived  among  them  as  one 
who  expected  death  to  come  to  him  suddenly  and 
by  violence ;  but  this  never  disturbed  his  serenity  or 
cheerfulness. 

It  was  with  something  of  increased  dignity  and  au- 
thority that  Savonarola  returned  to  his  work  of  preach- 
ing. He  was  no  longer  liable  to  be  removed  from  his 
post  at  the  will  of  the  Lombard  Provincial.  He  was 
now  himself  the  head  of  the  Tuscan  congregation,  with 
a  reputation  for  truthfulness,  courage,  and  personal 
holiness  which  had  been  steadily  increasing.  But  his 
theme  was  still  the  same,  —  the  ruin  of  the  Church,  the 
dissolute  lives  of  the  clergy,  the  corruption  of  the  rulers 
in  Church  and  State,  the  approaching  scourge  of  God 
which  was  to  chastise  the  evils  of  the  age. 


1; 


con- 


MONASTIC  REFORM. 


141 


It  was  soon  after  his  conventual  reforms,  in  the  Ad- 
vent of  1493,  ^^^^  ^®  preached  his  sermons  on  the 
psalm  Quam  bonus,  —  "  Truly  God  is  loving  tmto  Is- 
rael," ^  —  which  are  considered  to  be  theologically  the 
best  of  his  discourses.''  They  are  distinguished  by  a 
more  careful  diction,  —  probably  they  are  better  re- 
ported than  some  of  his  other  courses,  —  by  consider- 
able argumentative  force,  and  by  the  strongest  assertion 
of  the  doctrine  of  divine  grace. 

"  Let  all  Paradise  come  here,"  he  exclaims,  —  "  let  the 
angels  come,  let  the  prophets  and  patriarchs  come,  let  the 
martyrs  come,  let  the  doctors  and  all  the  saints  come, 
one  by  one,  that  I  may  dispute  with  them ;  come  all  the 
elect  of  God,  that  I  may  dispute  with  you.  Say  the  truth, 
*  Give  glory  to  God,'  confess  the  truth,  if  you  have  the 
glory,  if  you  are  happy  and  blessed  by  your  own  merits 
and  by  your  own  strength,  or  by  divine  goodness.  Come 
here,  you  especially  who  have  been  immersed  in  sins ; 
tell  me,  Peter,  tell  me,  O  Magdalene,  why  are  you  in 
Paradise  ?  You  certainly  sinned  like  us.  Thou,  Peter, 
who  didst  confess  the  Son  of  God,  who  didst  converse 
with  Him,  heardest  Him  preach,  sawest  His  miracles,  and 
more,  who  alone  with  two  other  disciples  sawest  Him 
transfigured  upon  Mount  Tabor,  and  heardest  the  Fa- 
ther's voice  ;  and  nevertheless,  at  the  words  of  a  mere 
woman  didst  deny  Him  three  times,  and  yet  wast  re- 
stored to  grace  and  made  head  of  the  Church,  and  now 
possessest  heavenly  blessedness,  —  whence  hast  thou  ob- 
tained so  great  good  ?  Thou  wi'.t  say,  perhaps,  because 
thou  didst  return  in  heart,  because  thou  didst  begin  to 
weep  bitterly.?  Yes,  O  Peter,  thanks  to  the  divine  good- 

1  Ps.  Ixxiii. 

2  They  have  been  republished  (Prato,  1846),  together  with 
his  sermons  on  the  First  Epistle  of  St.  John,  and  may  still  be 
bought. 


I' 


1     ! 


i        I 


I 


^il 


142 


SAVONAROLA. 


rV   ',\. 


ness  which  looked  upon  thee,  as  the  Evangelist  says: 
*  The  Lord  turned  and  looked  upon  Peter ;  and  Peter  went 
out  and  wept  bitterly.'  Thou  didst  not  weep  until  the 
Lord  looked  upon  thee  ;  thou  didst  not  return  in  heart 
until  the  Lord  touched  thy  heart.  Confess  then,  Peter, 
that  it  is  not  by  thy  merits,  but  by  the  goodness  of  God 
that  thou  hast  obtained  such  blessings." 

Such  language  seems  to  have  been  understood  by 
some  of  Savonarola's  biographers  as  indicating  a  ten- 
dency to  Protestantism ;  but  this  passage  alone,  with 
its  reference  to  St.  Peter,  might  show  that  he  was  in 
no  respect  at  variance  with  the  doctrines  of  the  Church. 
There  was,  of  course,  a  sense  in  which  he  was  a  fore- 
runner of  the  Reformation,  inasmuch  as  he  strenuously 
opposed  the  tyranny  and  denounced  the  corruptions 
of  the  Papacy ;  but  there  is  no  ground  for  supposing 
that  he  had  any  thought  of  protesting  against  the  ac- 
cepted teaching  of  his  age.  Kerker's  language  is  hardly 
too  strong  when  he  says  :  *  "  When  Meier  and  others 
find  in  his  expressions  relative  to  penitence  and  indul- 
gence something  which  anticipates  the  Reformation 
of  the  sixteenth  century,  they  prove  that  they  are  not 
acquainted  with  the  Catholic  doctrine  on  this  subject." 
So  the  expressions  on  the  subject  of  divine  grace  in 
the  passage  quoted  are  simply  the  echoes  of  the  lan- 
guage of  Augustine,  the  greatest  Father  of  the  Latin 
Church.^ 

1  Wetzer  and  Welte's  Kirchenlexicon,  art.  Savonarola. 

2  Hase  remarks,  however,  with  truth  (Neue  Propheten : 
Savonarola,  s.  14) :  "  As  a  prophet  of  the  Reformation,  Savona- 
rola perceived  the  dawn  of  the  ideas  out  of  which  this  Reforma- 
tion afterwards  proceeded, — that  the  Holy  Scripture  leads  us 
to  Christ,  not  to  the  saints  nor  to  the  Virgin  ;  that  if  Christ  does 
not  absolve  you,  other  absolution  cannot  help  you ;  that  salva* 


I  P  /■ 


n  H 


MONASTIC  REFORM, 


143 


Savonarola's  doctrine  of  grace  did  not  pi  event  his 
holding  firmly  the  freedom  of  man  and  the  necessity 
of  good  works.  "  If  any  one  should  ask,"  he  says, 
"why  the  will  is  free,  we  reply,  because  it  is  the  will." 
And  he  adds  that  justification,  although  it  be  the  act 
of  God,  needs  the  concurrence  of  man.  "Wilt  thou, 
my  brother,  receive  the  love  of  Jesus  Christ  ?  See  that 
thou  consent  to  the  divine  voice  which  calls  thee.  The 
Lord  calls  thee  every  day :  do  thou  also  something." 
Both  in  theory  and  in  practice  Savonarola  was  a  worker, 
and  held  and  displayed  a  deep  faith  in  the  power  of 
work.  His  well-known  motto,^  adopted  in  youth,  re- 
corded by  all  his  biographers,  and  repeatedly  used  in 
his  sermons,  indicates  the  spirit  of  his  life.     "  A  man," 


tion  does  not  come  from  external  works,  such  as  the  Church 
by  its  Judaizing  precepts  and  ordinances  and  its  refined  heathen- 
ism had  required,  but  from  the  surrender  of  the  heart  to  the 
Redeemer,  and  from  faith  in  the  old,  deep,  and  inward  meaning 
of  the  word  But  he  did  not  think  of  altering  anything  in  these 
ordinances,  in  which  for  nearly  a  thousand  years  the  faith  of 
Western  Christianity  had  been  established."  On  the  relation 
of  Savonarola  to  Luther,  Ranke  (Studien,  s.  331)  remarks:  "  If 
we  would  compare  him  with  Luther,  who  regarded  him  as  his 
forerunner  in  teaching  the  doctrine  of  justification,  we  shall  find 
two  points  of  difference.  Savonarola  reckoned  upon  supernatu- 
ral signs  and  wonders,  whilst  Luther,  resting  simply  upon  the 
written  word,  not  only  despised  them,  but  abhorred  and  opposed 
them.  The  other  difference  was  that  Savonarola  held  fast  to 
the  ideal  of  a  council,  and  thought  by  this  means  to  overthrow 
the  Pope  .  .  .  Luther's  point  of  departure,  on  the  contrary,  was 
his  denial  of  the  infallibility  of  the  council  a?  well  as  of  the 
Pope  ;  and  therefore  he  took  his  position  outside  of  the  hierarchy 
of  the  Church,  whilst  Savonarola  held  fast  by  this.  Luther 
wished  chiefly  a  reformation  of  doctrine ;  Savonarola,  a  refor- 
mation of  life  and  government." 
1  See  p.  121. 


i 


I 


f  'S  ■s'l 


144 


SAVONAROLA. 


f' 


he  says,  "  knows  as  much  as  he  works "  ( Tanto  sa 
ciascuno  quanta  opera).  This  theory  was  not  in  his 
mind  at  variance  with  his  sense  of  entire  dependence 
upon  the  grace  of  God,  any  more  than  it  was  in  the 
mind  of  Saint  Paul,  or  of  Him  who  was  Master  of 
both. 

In  closest  connection  with  the  assertion  of  the  doc- 
trines of  grace  was  his  denunciation  of  tlie  state  of  the 
clergy,  —  the  paganism  of  their  belief,  and  the  unchris- 
tian character  of  their  lives. 

"They  speak  against  pride  and  ambition,"  he  said,  '* but 
they  are  immersed  in  it  up  to  the  eyes.  They  preach  chas- 
tity, but  they  keep  concubines  They  recommend  fasting, 
but  they  live  luxuriously.  It  is  the  Pharisaic  spirit  come 
to  life  in  the  rulers  of  Christ's  Church.  They  love  greet- 
ings in  the  market-place,  and  to  be  called  masters  and 
rabbis  ;  they  make  broad  their  phylacteries.  They  do  all 
to  be  seen  of  men." 

It  was  about  this  time  that  he  made  the  often-quoted 
comparison  between  the  priests  and  the  chalices  of  the 
early  and  the  later  days  of  the  Church.  Our  Church, 
he  says,  has  many  beautiful  ceremonies  and  appoint- 
ments, —  candlesticks  of  gold  and  silver,  and  as  many 
chalices  as  a  potentate. 

**  You  see  great  prelates  with  mitres  of  gold  and  precious 
stones  on  their  heads,  and  a  pastoral  staff  of  silver ;  you 
see  them  at  the  altar  with  splendid  chasubles  and  embroid- 
ered copes,  singing  those  vespers  and  those  fine  masses 
with  so  many  ceremonies,  with  so  many  organs  and  sing- 
ers, that  you  are  stupefied.  .  .  .  And  people  say  that 
divine  worship  was  never  properly  celebrated  before,  and 
that  the  early  prelates  were  nothing  when  compared  with 
these  modern  ones     True,  they  had  not  then  so  many  gold 


MONASTIC  REFORM. 


MS 


nto  sa 
in  his 
idence 
in  the 
ster  of 

e  doc- 

of  the 

inchris- 

d,  "  but 
h  chas- 
fasting, 
it  come 
e  greet- 
ers  and 
y  do  all 

-quoted 
of  the 
Dhurch, 
ippoint- 
s  many 


arecious 
er ;  you 
mbroid- 
masses 
id  sing- 
ay  that 
ore,  and 
ed  with 
iny  gold 


mttres,  nor  so  many  chalices  ;  and  the  few  that  they  had 
they  parted  with  of  necessity  for  the  relief  of  the  poor.  .  .  . 
But  do  you  know  what  I  have  to  say  to  you  on  this  ?  In 
the  primitive  Church  there  were  chalices  of  wood  and  pre- 
lates of  gold  ;  in  these  days  the  Church  has  golden  chalices 
and  wooden  prelates  !  " 

He  spares  the  princes  no  more  than  the  prelates. 
Naturally  enough,  they  were  still  worse ;  and  his  hear- 
ers did  not  need  to  go  beyond  tiieir  own  city  for  illus- 
trations of  his  words.  The  conflict  between  himself 
and  the  tyranny  of  the  age  was  ever  thickening. 

In  the  autumn  of  1494  he  resumed  the  exposition 
of  the  history  of  the  flood,  his  sermons  **  On  the  Ark 
of  Noah,"  which  he  had  begun  in  1492  and  then 
discontinued.  It  is  thought  that  the  report  of  these 
sermons,  which  we  possess  in  Latin,  is  a  very  incom- 
plete and  imperfect  representatio'i  of  those  which  were 
actually  delivered.  It  is  at  least  certain  that  these 
sermons  produced  the  greatest  impression  upon  those 
who  heard  them.  They  were  intended  to  complete 
the  series  commenced  in  Advent,  which  dealt  princi- 
pally with  the  sins  of  Italy  and  the  impending  chas- 
tisement. In  the  Lent  series  of  1492  he  proceeds  to 
speak  of  the  ark  of  safety,  in  which  the  faithful  may 
escape  from  the  coming  deluge.  He  carried  them  on 
to  the  end  of  Lent;  and  on  Easter  Day  he  spoke  of 
the  completion  of  the  ark,  of  the  readiness  of  all 
things  for  the  entrance  of  the  people  of  God.  The 
interest  manifested  in  these  discourses  was  prodi- 
gious. The  cathedral  was  crowded  with  eager  listen- 
ers. Savonarola  was  becoming  more  and  more  the 
mind,  the  conscience,  the  will  of  Florence. 

The  whole  course  of  sermons  had  not  completed  the 

10 


146 


SAVONAROLA. 


expositicr*  of  this  one  chapter  of  Genesis ;  and  Savo- 
narola res  imed  the  subject  in  the  month  of  September, 
1494,  when  he  prepared  to  preach  thirteen  additional 
sermons  by  way  of  conclusion^  The  third  of  these 
sermons,  on  the  17th  verse  of  the  chapter  which  speaks 
of  the  deluge,  fell  on  the  21st  of  September.  It  was  a 
day  and  a  sermon  never  to  be  forgotten  by  the  preacher 
or  his  hearers.  The  cathedral  was  crowded,  and  the 
multitudes  assembled  had  to  wait  for  a  long  time  be- 
fore the  preacher  appeared.  He  ascended  the  pulpit 
laboring  under  the  strongest  emotion,  which  was  vis- 
ible to  the  audience.  Gazing  across  the  sea  of  human 
faces,  he  gave  out  the  words  of  his  text  in  a  voice  of 
awful  solemnity :  Ecce  ego  adducam  aquas  super  ter- 
ram,  —  "And  behold,  I,  even  I,  do  bring  a  flood  of 
waters  upon  the  earth."  The  words  and  the  tone 
struck  terror  into  every  heart.  Pico  della  Mirandola, 
who  was  present,  relates  that  a  shudder  ran  through 
his  whole  frame,  and  his  hai-  seemed  to  stand  on 
end ;  and  Savonarola  declares  that  he  was  himself 
not  Idss  moved  than  his  hearers.  The  cause  of  this 
unusual  emotion  was  not  inade(iaate.  The  French 
had  entered  Italy,  and  the  news  had  just  arrived  that 
their  armies  were  descending  the  Alps.  The  event 
which  Savonarola  had  expected  and  predicted  had 
now  come  to  pass;  and  men  turned  to  the  prophet 
for  guidance  in  their  perplexities.  It  was  a  great 
crisis  in  his  history.  The  friar  of  Bologna,  the  Prior 
of  San  Marco,  the  preacher  of  Florence,  was  now  to 
become  the  statesman. 

1  These  sermons  are,  in  the  Venetian  edition  already  men- 
tioned, referred  erroneously  to  the  Advent  of  1493. 


THE  FRENCH  IN  ITALY, 


147 


CHAPTER  IX. 


THE   FRENCH   IN   ITALY. 


The  historian  Gibbon  speaks  of  the  "  expedition  of 
Charles  VIII.  into  Italy  "  as  "  an  event  which  changed 
the  face  of  Europe ; "  ^  and  it  certainly  was  an  event 
which  entailed  upon  Italy,  immediately  and  remotely, 
the  most  serious  consequences.  The  gravity  of  the 
circumstances  was  felt  by  most  of  the  rulers  and  public 
men  of  Italy ;  but  few  of  those  who  were  most  deeply 
interested  in  it  could  have  dreamed  of  its  far-reaching 
and  enduring  effects. 

It  has  been  charged  against  Savonarola  that  he  showed 
a  lack  of  patriotism  in  encouraging  the  invasion  of  Italy 
\}j  a  foreign  army ;  but  a  judgment  of  this  kind  implies 
a  forgetfulness  both  of  the  prevalent  ideas  of  ilie  period, 
and  of  the  part  which  the  great  Dominican  actually  took 
in  the  transactions  of  his  times.  The  idea  of  interven- 
tion was  one  which  was  perfectly  familiar  and  natural 
hi  that  age.  Independent  States,  as  we  undei^^tand  the 
word,  were  very  few.  The  republics  of  Italy  were,  in 
theory  at  least,  dependent  upon  the  Empire  j  moreover, 
they  hardly  ever  went  to  war  without  allies.     In  the 

1  Critical  Researches  concerning  the  Title  of  Charles  VIII. 
to  the  Crown  of  Naples;  in  Miscellaneous  Works,  iii.  206.  See 
aUo  Philippe  cle  Commines,  liv.  vii.  c.  i.,  who  treats  the  claims  of 
his  master  with  almost  undisguised  contempt. 


11 


\  * 


1 


i 


] 


^'.1 


.u 


,1' 

I 


148 


SAVONAROLA. 


l-« 


case  of  international  disputes  leading  to  war,  there  was 
generally  a  confederation  of  one  set  of  States  against 
another.  T!  rp  was  also  frequently  an  appeal  to  a 
power  external  to  the  contending  parties. 

The  natural  and,  in  theory,  the  rightful  superior  of  the 
Italian  States,  to  whom  all  their  disputes  ought  to  have 
been  referred,  was  the  Emperor.  But  the  Empire  had 
long  ceased  to  be  more  than  a  name  to  Italy,  and  any 
appeal  to  the  German  Caesar  would  have  been  valueless. 
Besides,  France  had  been  the  old  ally  of  Florence,  and 
was  one  with  the  republic  in  its  Guelfic  policy.  The 
imperial  interests  were  represented  by  the  Ghibelline 
party.  To  the  contemporaries  of  Savonarola  there  was 
nothing  disloyal  or  unnatural  in  the  desire  for  an  alliance 
with  France. 

■  It  is  true  that  Savonarola  hailed  with  satisfaction  the 
French  invasion  of  Italy,  and  saluted  Charles  VIII.  as 
the  "  New  Cyrus ;  "  but  it  was  because  he  believed  that 
Italy  needed  to  be  scourged  before  it  could  be  regener- 
ated, and  because  he  saw  in  the  French  king  the  instru- 
ment of  God  for  effecting  this  purpose.  It  is  true,  also, 
that  King  Charles  referred  to  the  prophecies  of  Savona- 
rola as  giving  a  sanction  to  his  enterprise ;  but  there 
were  others  besides  himself  who  thought  they  saw  the 
hand  of  God  guiding  the  expedition,  and  it  is  quite 
certain  that  Savonarola's  words  formed  a  very  slight 
proportion  of  the  complex  influences  by  which  he  was 
induced  to  lead  his  army  into  Italy. 

Charles  himself  was  a  man  with  little  capacity  for 
such  an  undertaking.  He  must  have  been  of  a  kindly 
disposition  and  of  pleasant  manners,  otherwise  he  could 
hardly  have  been  surnamed  "The  Affable,"  or  have  been 
so  deeply  regretted  by  his  family  when  he  died.    He  was. 


•  >' 


\ 


THE  FRENCH  IN  ITALY. 


149 


says  De  Commines,  so  good,  so  kindly,  "  that  it  is  not 
possible  to  see  a  better  creature,"  But  he  was  most 
insignificant  in  appearance,  being  short  of  stature  and 
very  feeble  in  body ;  and  his  mental  powers  were  of  the 
most  slender  character,  while  his  education  had  been 
almost  entirely  neglected.  "  But  for  the  power  and 
dignity  of  his  eyes,"  says  Guicciardini,^  "  he  would  have 
been  terribly  ugly."  As  regards  attainments,  it  is  said 
that  he  scarcely  knew  the  letters  of  the  alphabet.  But 
he  had,  notwithstanding,  inherited  the  ambitious  senti- 
ments of  his  father,  the  crafty  and  resolute  Louis  XI. ; 
and  having  consolidated  the  French  kingdom  by  the 
union  of  the  great  Province  of  Brittany  through  his 
marriage  with  the  Duchess  Anne,  he  began  to  turn  his 
eyes  eastward,  and  dreamed  of  rivalling  the  fame  of 
Saint  Louis  by  leading  another  crusade  against  the  Turks. 
As  a  first  step,  he  undertook  to  vindicate  his  supposed 
righls  to  the  crown  of  Naples. 

Those  rights  hardly  deserve  investigation  at  our  hands. 
There  are  few  questions  more  difficult  to  decide  than 
the  comparative  claims  of  the  houses  of  Arragon  and 
Anjou  to  the  kingdom  of  Naples ;  and  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  decide  the  questions  on  principles  which  are 
now  generally  recognized.  The  law  of  succession  was 
at  that  time  very  vague  and  uncertain.  In  some  cases 
the  right  of  a  sovereign  to  nominate  his  successor,  or 
to  decide  between  two  claimants,  was  acknowledged. 
The  stain  of  illegitimacy  was  not  in  all  cases  regarded 
as  a  bar  to  inheritance.  All  these  questions  come  up  in 
the  discussion  of  the  subject.    The  French  claim  was 

1  D'  aspetto  (se  tu  lievi  il  vigore  et  la  degniti  degli  occhi) 
bruttissimo,  e  1'  altre  membre  proportionate  in  modo,  che  e*  pareva 
quasi  piii  simile  al  mostro,  che  a  huomo.  —  Istoria  d '  Italia,  lib.  i. 


.1 


I 


I 


ISO 


SAVONAROLA. 


m 


certainly  very  doubtful.  If  the  rights  of  the  house  of 
Arragon  were  not  absolute,  they  had  at  least  sixty  years 
of  posesssion  and  the  consent  of  their  subjects.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  tyranny  of  Ferdinand,  the  ruling 
sovereign,  and  his  son  Alfonso  had  stirred  up  rebellion 
among  his  people,  and  many  of  them  joined  in  urging 
the  French  king  to  press  his  claims. 

The  actual  undertaking  was  brought  about  in  a  strange 
manner.  The  daughter  of  Ferdinand  was  married  to 
Gian  Galeazzo  Sforza,  the  lawful  Duke  of  Milan,  whose 
inheritance  had  been  seized  by  his  uncle  Ludovico, 
known,  from  his  dark  complexion,  as  "The  Moor" 
(//  Mora).  Ferdinand  was  incited  by  his  daughter  to 
assert  the  rights  of  her  husband,  who  was  kept  in  con- 
finement by  his  uncle.  Ludovico,  seeing  a  league  in 
process  of  formation  against  him,  urged  Charles  of 
France  to  assert  his  claims  to  the  crown  of  Naples, 
promising  him  assistance  on  his  descent  upon  Italy. 
The  scheme  at  first  appeared  so  utterly  chimerical  that 
there  was  hardly  a  Frenchman  who  could  be  found  to 
advise  the  king  to  undertake  it.  Only  two  of  the  king's 
councillors,  both  of  them  men  of  no  consideration,  were 
in  favor  of  the  enterprise,  and  one  of  these  speedily 
changed  his  mind.  "  So  that  we  may  conclude,"  says 
De  CommincF,  "  that  this  whole  expedition,  both  going 
and  coming,  was  conducted  purely  by  God;  for  the 
wisdom  of  the  contrivers  of  this  scheme  contributed 
but  little."^ 

The  condition  of  Italy  was  at  this  time  the  most 
tranquil  and  prosperous.**    Guicciardini,  in  beginning 

1  Memoires,  liv.  vii.  c.  i. 

2  Guicciardini,  lib.  i.  c.  1.;  Christophe,  Papaute  pendant  le 
quinzieme  siecle,  liv.  xv. 


THE  FRENCH  IN  ITALY. 


151 


)> 


his  history,  pauses  before  proceeding  to  narrate  the 
calamities  which  befell  his  country,  and  looks  back  upon 
the  wealth  and  glory  which  excited  the  admiration,  and 
alas  !  also  the  cupidity,  of  the  foreigner.  He  speaks  with 
enthusiasm  of  those  great  republics,  then  at  the  summit 
of  their  power,  —  of  their  numerous  inhabitants,  of  their 
beauty,  of  the  splendor  of  their  towns,  of  their  proud 
independence,  of  the  magnificence  of  their  princes,  rival- 
ling that  of  the  greatest  sovereigns.  Italy  was  in  truth 
the  most  civilized  country  in  Europe,  and  the  most  ad- 
vanced in  all  that  constitutes  real  progress,  —  in  liberty, 
in  the  development  of  industry,  in  literature  and  arts,  in 
wealth.  The  Italians  were  not  only  the  teachers  of 
learning,  of  science,  of  art,  they  were  the  bankers  of  the 
kings  of  the  earth.  These  potentates  were  frequently 
unable  to  determine  whether  they  were  in  a  position  to 
go  to  war,  until  they  had  first  ascertained  whether  they 
could  obtain  a  loan  from  the  bankers  of  Venice,  of 
Genoa,  or  of  Florence.  If  this  prosperity  was  degen- 
erating into  luxury,  if  the  moral  condition  of  the  country 
was  becoming  worse  and  worse,  if  faith  and  virtue  were 
dying  out  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  and  their  teachers, 
these  seeds  of  evil  had  not  yet  brought  forth  all  their 
corrupt  fruits.  In  one  respect  the  Italians  were  inferior 
to  the  other  nations  of  Europe,  —  they  had  no  soldiers. 
The  military  art  was  almost  unknown.  Battles  are  re- 
ported to  have  been  fought  by  multitudes  of  men,  in 
which  hardly  a  combatant  perished.^  The  French  army, 
on  the  contrary,  if  partly  composed  of  inferior  materials, 
had  a  large  number  of  trained  and  experienced  soldiers. 

1  Machiavelli  says  that  frequently  two  armies  were  engaged 
for  hours  without  a  man  perishing,  except  those  who  fell  and 
were  trodden  to  death  by  the  horses ! 


IS2 


SAVONAROLA. 


W'>  \ 


"■  M, 


Consequently,  when  they  entered  Italy,  they  met  with 
no  serious  opposition.  Moreover,  if  the  governments  of 
Italy  regarded  the  invasion  of  their  country  with  appre- 
hension and  aversion,  the  people  at  large  were  for  the 
most  part  on  the  side  of  the  French,  and  welcomed 
their  arrival. 

There  was  indeed  no  effective  opposition  offered  to 
their  progress.  The  Pope,  after  joining  with  Ludovico 
il  Moro  in  inviting  the  invasion,  had  turned  round  and 
sided  with  the  Neapolitans ;  but  he  was  not  prepared 
to  take  action.  Piero  de'  Medici  was  the  devoted  friend 
of  the  house  of  Arragon ;  but  the  city  of  Florence  was 
equally  devoted  to  the  French,  and  the  most  powerful 
voice  among  them  only  expressed  the  sentiments  of  the 
populace  when  it  welcomed  the  coming  of  Charles. 
Venice  was  neutral,  Milan  was  with  them,  Naples  was 
almost  in  revolution.  Ferdinand,  troubled  and  anxious, 
and  consumed  with  remorse,  had  died  in  abject  misery 
at  the  beginning  of  this  year  (Jan.  25,  1494).  His  son 
Alfonso,  who  succeeded  him,  prepared  as  best  he  could 
to  meet  the  approaching  invaders. 

Even  at  the  last  moment  the  French  king  hesitated 
and  drew  back  from  the  perilous  enterprise,  when  he 
received  new  encouragement  from  an  unexpected  quar- 
ter. At  Lyons  he  was  joined  by  the  resolute  Giuliano 
della  Rovere,  cardinal  of  San  Pietro  in  Vincoli,  well 
known  in  future  history  as  Julius  II.  He  was  one  of 
the  few  cardinals  who  could  not  be  bribed  to  vote  for 
the  election  of  Rodrigo  Borgia  to  the  Papacy ;  and 
when  this  man  ascended  the  throne  under  the  name  of 
Alexander  VI.,  the  cardinal  never  laid  aside  the  bitter 
enmity  and  contemj^  t  with  which  he  regarded  the  power- 
ful but  abandoned  pontiff,  whom  he  pronounced  to  be  a 


THE  FRENCH  IN  ITALY. 


153 


»> 


"  miscreant  and  a  heretic."  *  Resolute  in  his  determi- 
nation to  oppose  in  every  possible  way  the  man  whom 
he  regarded  as  a  disgrace  to  the  Church,  he  not  only 
planned  the  assembling  of  a  council,  in  order  to  obtain 
his  deposition,  but  he  made  his  escape  into  France,  and 
used  all  his  influence  to  induce  the  king  to  undertake 
the  invasion  of  Italy.  He  told  him  that  by  his  procras- 
tination he  was  imperilling  Mot  only  his  own  honor  but 
that  of  his  whole  people.  At  last  the  king  put  his 
army  in  motion,  Aug.  12,  1494,  and  crossing  the  Monte 
Ginevra,  he  arrived  at  Asti,  where  he  was  met  by 
Ludovico. 

Here  the  king,  abandoning  himself  to  pleasure  and 
dissipation,  brought  on  an  illness  by  which  he  was  de- 
tained at  Asti  for  a  month.  When  he  recovered  he 
proceeded  to  Pavia,  where  he  visited  his  relative,  the 
dispossessed  Gian  Galeazzo,  kept  here  by  his  uncle,  and 
now  prostrated  by  disease.  Isabella  of  Arragon,  his 
wife,  made  an  appeal  to  Charles,  by  which  he  was 
greatly  moved  ;  so  that  he  promised  to  use  his  influence 
to  obtain  their  release.  He  was  relieved  from  his 
embarrassment  by  the  news  of  the  young  man's  death, 
which  shortly  afterwards  reached  him.  His  uncle  was 
gravely  suspected  of  having  slowly  poisoned  him. 

While  hesitating  as  to  his  future  route,  the  king  heard 
of  the  success  of  the  French  arms  in  other  quarters. 
D'Aubigny,  who  had  been  sent  with  a  small  army  into 
Romagna,  had  met  with  no  opposition.  The  Duke  of 
Orleans  had  repulsed  the  Neapolitan  fleet  at  Genoa,  and 
had  taken  Rapallo  and  put  the  garrison  to  the  sword, 
besides  slaying  the  whole  of  the  inhabitants,  includ- 
ing forty  sick  persons  in  their  beds.    The  Italians  were 

*  Marrano  ed  eretico. 


IS4 


SAVONAROLA. 


s 


Wi''' 


I'l  \  i   y 


I  ( 


unaccustomed  to  such  ferocity  in  war,  and  the  whole 
country  was  terror-stricken  at  the  intelligence.  The 
king  was  further  confirmed  in  his  resolution  by  the 
arrival  of  Giovanni  and  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  cousins  of 
Piero,  who  came  to  tell  him  that  Florence  and  all 
Tuscany  was  on  his  side.  The  order  was  now  given  to 
advance.  The  campaign  under  the  king  was  conducted 
with  the  same  savage  cruelty  wnich  had  distinguished 
tne  Swiss  under  the  Duke  of  Orleans.  The  castle  of 
Fivizzano  was  taken,  and  the  inhabitaiits  put  to  the 
sword.  The  invaders  received  their  ^rst  check  when 
they  arrived  before  the  fortress  of  Sarzana. 

The  Fiench  and  the  Florentines  had  been  an^Jcnt 
alhes ;  and  King  Charles,  before  under' aking  the  expe- 
dition, hnd  ordered  the  ambassadors  whom  he  sent  into 
Italy  to  solicit  the  friendship  wf  the  Medici  and  their 
city.  He  desired  them  to  urge  the  old  friendship 
existing  between  the  two  peoples  ;  to  remind  the  Flor 
entines  that  Charlemagne  had  rebuilt  their  city,  and 
that  other  French  kings  had  afforded  them  assistance  in 
their  wars.  The  audacity  of  these  assertions  would 
seem  more  astonishing  if  the  fable  of  the  rebuilding  of 
the  city  had  not  been  received  as  history  at  that  period, 
and  if  we  were  not  somewhat  familiar  with  the  ludicrous 
notion  that  Charles  the  Great,  a  German  king,  was  a 
Frenchman.  The  Florentines,  however,  did  not  need 
arguments,  good  or  bad,  to  make  them  favorable  to  the 
French ;  and  Piero  de'  Medic'  was  so  mfatuated  with 
the  Neapolitan  alliance,  and  pf:rhaps  so  douLful  of  the 
reality  of  the  enterprise,  that  he  gave  no  heed  to  them. 
As  he  would  not  receive  the  invaders  as  friends,  they 
prepared  to  enter  Tuscany  as  enemes. 

The  feeble  and  irresolute  Piero  now  began  to  tremb.e 


THE  FRENCH  IN  ITALY. 


155 


for  the  result  of  his  alliance  with  Naples.  The  rapid 
advance  of  the  French  seemed  to  paralyze  what  power 
of  thought  and  action  he  possessed.  If  he  had  even 
now  taken  measures  to  give  effect  to  his  policy,  he 
might  have  seriously  embarrassed  the  invaders,  perhaps 
even  have  finally  checked  their  advance.  While  he 
hesitated,  Florence  was  in  confusion.  The  popular  feel- 
ing here,  as  elsewhere  throughout  the  cities  of  Italy,  had 
always  been  on  the  side  of  the  French  ;  and  the  people 
were  incensed  as  well  as  alarmed  to  think  that  they 
must  meet  as  an  enemy  one  whom  they  regarded  as  a 
friend.  Piero  at  first  thought  of  resistance,  and  sent 
reinforcements  to  the  garrison  of  Sarzana ;  but  suddenly 
changing  his  mind,  he  determined  to  try  the  effect  of 
personal  negotiation  with  the  king. 

Some  years  before,  when  war  was  being  waged  be- 
tween Florence  and  Naples,  his  father,  Lorenzo,  had 
conceived  the  bold  project  of  venturing  himself  alone 
into  the  hands  of  the  king  of  Naples ;  and  he  had 
carried  out  his  purpose  with  so  much  courage  and  ad- 
dress that  he  had  secured  honorable  terms  for  his 
country.  Piero  determined  to  attempt  the  same  experi- 
ment with  the  king  of  France.  Imitations  are  not  often 
successful,  for  the  reason  perhaps  that  they  ignore  the 
circumstances  in  which  the  original  example  was  shown ; 
but  the  imitation  of  a  brave  and  capable  man  by  one 
who  is  timid  and  incapable  is  almost  certainly  doomed 
to  failure. 

Accompanied  by  ambassadors  from  the  republic,  he 
set  forth  on  his  journey.  On  his  way  he  found  that  his 
reinforcements  had  been  met  and  defeated  by  the 
French  ;  but  they  had  attempted  in  vain  to  get  posses- 
sion of  the  fort  of  Sarzanello.     In  spite  of  this  failure, 


'S6 


SAVONAROLA, 


%.,) 


which  might  have  been  repeated,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  other  and  still  greater  obstacles  stood  in  the  way  of 
the  invaders,  and  probably  fearing  lest  any  attempts  at 
resistance  on  his  part  should  not  be  supported  by  his 
countrymen,  he  resolved  to  make  every  concession 
which  might  be  demanded  of  him.  Without  communi- 
cating with  the  ambassadors,  he  at  once  consented  to 
surrender  to  the  king  the  three  fortresses  of  Sarzana, 
Sarzanello,  and  Pietra  Santa,  which  were  immediately 
given  up.  He  also  promised  to  pay  a  subsidy,  and  to 
yield  up  the  fortresses  of  Pisa  and  Livorno,  on  condition 
of  their  being  restored  after  the  conquest  of  Naples ; 
thus  giving  the  French  virtual  possession  of  the  whole 
country.  The  French  king  might  well  conclude  that 
"  God  was  manifestly  conducting  their  enterprise."  * 
'  When  the  ambassadors  returned  to  Florence  and 
made  known  the  terms  conceded  by  the  unworthy  Piero, 
the  wrath  of  the  citizens  knew  no  bounds.  It  was  not 
only  that  the  conditions  were  ignominious  beyond  ex- 
ample, but  they  had  been  entered  into  without  authority 
from  the  rulers  of  the  State  and  without  the  concur- 
rence of  the  ambassadors.  Even  those  who  had  hitherto 
been  supporters  of  the  Medici  now  openly  fell  away 
from  them.  It  was  easier,  however,  to  quarrel  with  the 
existing  state  of  things  than  to  know  how  to  inaugurate 
a  better.  The  Florentines  had  lost  the  sense  of  liberty, 
and  the  sense  of  power  by  which  it  is  accompanied. 
Accustomed  to  lean  upon  the  family  which  had  now 
betrayed  them,  they  knew  not  how  to  set  to  work  so  as 


■'•  I 


$!' 


1  De  Commines  (liv.  vii.  c.  9)  says :  "  If  Sarzana  had  been  fur- 
nished as  it  ought  to  have  been,  the  king's  army  had  certainly 
been  ruined  in  besieging  it ;  for  the  country  is  mor.ntainous  and 
barren,  full  of  snow,  and  not  able  to  supply  us  with  provisions." 


'?     II 


THE  FRENCH  IN  ITALY, 


157 


to  act  for  themselves.  There  was  only  one  man  in 
whom  general  confidence  was  reposed.  They  turned  to 
the  cathedral,  expecting  and  desiring  the  guidance  of 
Savonarola. 

It  would  be  well  for  those  who  think  of  the  Frate  as 
a  wild  fanatic  eager  for  power,  burning  with  hatred 
against  the  Medici,  and  unscrupulous  in  his  denuncia- 
tion of  the  enslavers  of  Florence,  to  study  his  conduct 
at  this  crisis.  One  word  from  him,  and  the  city  would 
have  been  given  up  to  revolt  and  confusion.  One  word 
from  him,  and  the  palace  of  the  Medici  and  all  its 
treasures  would  have  perished  forever.  No  one  who 
considers  the  state  of  the  popular  mind,  the  readiness 
of  the  people  to  follow  the  guidance  of  one  in  whom 
they  confided,  and  the  influence  possessed  by  Savo- 
narola, will  doubt  the  truth  of  this  assertion. 

When  the  time  came  to  address  the  anxious  and  ex- 
cited multitudes  which  thronged  the  Duomo,  Savonarola 
was  evidently  oppressed  by  a  painful  sense  of  the  gravity 
of  the  occasion.  He  felt  that  a  fearful  responsibility  now 
devolved  upon  him,  and  that  a  word  spoken  rashly  or 
imprudently  might  have  terrible  consequences.  Instead 
of  denouncing  the  authors  of  these  calamities,  he  set 
forth  the  mercy  and  patience  of  God  as  an  example  to 
His  people,  and  with  earnest  voice  and  gesture  coun- 
selled union  and  brotherly  love.  Yet  he  could  not  avoid 
referring  to  the  fulfilment  of  the  predictions  which  he 
had  so  frequently  uttered  in  their  ears. 

"  Now,"  he  exclaimed,  "  the  sword  has  come,  the  prophe- 
cies are  fulfilled,  the  scourges  have  begun.  It  is  the 
Lord  who  guides  these  armies,  O  Florence  !  The  time  of 
songs  and  dances  has  passed  away ;  it  is  now  time  to  be- 
wail thy  sins  with  rivers  of  tears.    Thy  sins,  O  Florence ! 


158 


SAVONAROLA. 


n{ 


thy  sins,  O  Rome  !  thy  sins,  O  Italy  !  are  the  cause  of  these 
stripes.  And  now  repent,  give  alms,  offer  prayers,  become 
united.  O  people  !  I  have  been  a  father  to  thee  ;  I  have 
wearied  myself  all  the  days  of  my  life  to  make  known  to 
thee  the  truths  of  the  faith  and  of  holy  living,  and  I  have 
had  nothing  but  tribulations,  derision,  and  reproach.  May 
I  have  at  least  the  reward  of  seeing  thee  do  good  works  I 
My  people,  what  else  have  I  desired  than  to  see  thee  safe, 
than  to  see  thee  united  ?  Repent,  for  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  at  hand.  .  .  ." 

Again,  turning  his  speech  into  prayer,  he  cries  out : 

"  I  turn  to  Thee,  my  Lord,  who  didst  die  for  love  of  us 
and  for  our  sins.  Pardon,  O  Lord,  pardon  the  people  of 
Florence,  who  now  desire  to  be  Thine ! " 

He  left  the  pulpit  exhausted  by  the  effort ;  but  the 
words  which  he  had  uttered  were  not  unavailing.  His 
earnest  exhortations  to  peace  and  charity  and  unity  so 
moved  the  people  that  they  remained  quiet,  their  pas- 
sions so  kept  in  check  by  the  hand  which  was  now  con- 
trolling them  that  no  excesses  were  committed. 

The  helpless  condition  of  dependence  into  which 
this  great  city,  once  so  free,  so  proud,  and  so  turbulent, 
had  fallen,  became  more  than  ever  conspicuous  when 
the  leading  men  of  the  State  assembled  to  take  counsel 
as  to  their  future  action.  Notwithstanding  the  ever- 
increasing  hatred  with  which  the  mass  of  the  people 
regarded  the  Medici,  they  shrank  from  the  measures 
which  some  of  the  bolder  began  to  advise.  When  Luca 
Corsini  rose,  without  the  usual  request  from  the  Signoria, 
and  declared  that  everything  had  gone  wrong  with  them, 
and  steps  must  be  taken  to  prevent  the  ruin  with  which 
they  were  threatened,  he  was  met  with  astonishment  and 


^    I        ! 


THE  FRENCH  IN  ITALY. 


»59 


alarm,  instead  of  applause  and  support.  The  sentiment 
of  his  hearers  so  reacted  upon  himself  that  he  sat  down 
in  confusion,  unable  to  proceed  with  his  address. 

He  was  followed  by  a  young  man  named  Jacopo  di 
Tanai  de'  Nerli,  who  enforced  the  words  that  had  just 
been  spoken.  Yet  he  too  began  to  hesitate,  as  though 
abashed  at  his  own  audacity ;  and  his  father  instantly 
arose  and  asked  that  the  words  of  his  son  might  be 
excused,  in  consideration  of  his  youth.  But  there  was 
one  voice  which  did  not  fear  to  utter  the  thoughts  that 
were  laboring  in  many  breasts,  nor  to  point  out  the  duty 
that  was  now  incumbent  upon  the  rulers  of  the  republic. 
It  was  the  voice  of  a  man  who  bore  a  name  illustrious 
in  the  annals  of  Florence,  Piero  di  Gino  Capponi. 

There  was  something  in  the  commanding  appearance 
of  the  man,  and  there  was  in  him  a  youthful  impetuosity 
which  his  gray  hairs  had  not  tamed,  which  made  the 
multitude  listen  with  deep  attention  and  respect  to  the 
few  brief  but  resolute  words  which  he  uttered.    He  said  : 

"  Piero  de'  Medici  is  no  longer  capable  of  guiding  the 
State.  The  republic  must  see  to  itself;  it  is  time  to  have 
done  with  this  government  of  diildren.  Let  ambassadors 
be  sent  to  King  Charles.  If  they  meet  Piero,  let  them  not 
salute  him.  Let  them  explain  to  the  king  that  all  the  mis> 
chief  has  come  from  Piero,  and  that  the  city  is  friendly  to 
the  French.  Let  them  be  men  of  distinction,  who  will  not 
fail  to  receive  the  king  with  all  courtesy  ;  but  at  the  same 
time  let  them  call  in  from  the  country  the  commanders 
with  their  soldiers,  and  let  them  conceal  themselves  in  the 
convents  and  other  secret  places,  together  with  the  men- 
at-arms,  and  let  them  hold  themselves  ready  in  case  of  need. 
So  that  while  we  omit  noth.ng  that  is  right  and  due  to- 
wards this  most  Christian  king,  nor  fail  to  satisfy  with 
money  the  avaricious  nature  of  the  French,  we  may  be  able. 


i\ 


r~ 


i6o 


SAVONAROLA. 


if  he  shoald  have  recourse  to  acts  and  proposals  which  we 
cannot  endure,  to  show  him  our  face  and  our  arms.  And 
above  aU.  let  us  not  fail  to  send  along  with  the  other  am- 
bassadors Father  Girolamo  Savonarola,  who  now  possesses 
the  entire  affection  of  the  people." 

I  It  wanted  only  such  clear  rnd  decided  utterances, 
which  did  but  interpret  the  con'')' -d  thoughts  now  strug- 

■  gling  in  the  minds  of  the  multitude,  to  decide  their 
action.  The  ambassadors  were  elected  on  the  5th  of 
November,  and  among  them  were  Capponi  himself, 
Nerli,  and  Savonarola. 

It  was  the  custom  of  the  Frate  to  make  his  journeys 
on  foot  3  so  that  the  other  ambassadors  departed  by 
them.:elves,  and  he  followed,  accompanied  by  two  of 
the  brethren  of  his  convent.  Before  setting  out  he 
preached  again  to  the  people,  and  told  them  that  it  was 
God  who  had  heard  their  prayers  and  was  interposing 
for  their  safety.* 

"  He  alone  has  come  to  the  help  of  this  city,  when  all 
have  abandoned  it.  .  .  .  Persevere  then,  O  people  of  Flor- 
ence !  persevere  in  gojd  works,  persevere  in  peace.  If  thou 
desire  that  the  Lord  persevere  in  compassion;  be  thou  com- 
passionate towards  thy  brethren,  towards  thy  friends,  to- 
wards thine  enemies.  Otherwise  tliere  will  fall  upon  thee 
the  blows  which  are  preparing  for  the  rest  of  Italy.  *  I  will 
have  mercy,'  the  Lord  is  calling  to  you.  Woe  to  him  who 
does  not  obey  His  commands  !  " 

1  The  ambassadors  found  the  king  at  Lucca,  preparing 
to  depart,  and  they  had  their  first  interview  with  hii-i 
in  that  city.  Piero  dc'  Medici  remained  with  him ;  but 
the  ambassadors,  faithful  to  the  resolutions  taken  at  the 

1  This  sermon,  like  the  last,  is  among  the  Prediche  sopra  Aggeo 
(Villari). 


THE  FRENCH  IN  ITALY. 


I6l 


advice  of  Capponi,  showed  him  no  respect,  and  brought 
him  no  message  from  the  republic.  Apprehensive  of 
danger  to  his  interests  in  Florence,  he  did  his  best  to 
conciliate  the  king  by  promising  hi.n  a  sum  of  two  hun- 
dred thousand  ducats.  Instructing  Paolo  Orsini,  his 
mother's  brother,  to  get  together  his  soldiers  and  re- 
tainers and  to  follow  him  to  Florence,  he  hastened  back 
to  the  city,  which  he  reached  on  the  8th  of  November. 

The  interview  between  King  Charles  and  the  am- 
bassadors at  Lucca  was  short,  in  consequence  of  the 
preparations  he  was  making  for  his  departure  for  Pisa. 
He  received  them  very  graciously,  however,  and  seemed 
disposed  to  regard  the  wishes  of  the  republic  with  favor. 
When,  however,  they  followed  him  to  Pisa  and  were 
permitted  to  have  a  second  interview  with  him,  they 
found  he  had  been  so  influenced  by  the  representations 
and  promises  made  by  Piero  de'  Medici  before  his 
departure  thr.t  he  listened  with  great  coldness  to  the 
requests  which  they  preferred  on  behalf  of  the  State. 
He  would  make  no  promises,  but  simply  said  "he 
would  arrange  everything  when  he  was  within  the  great 
city."  The  ambassadors  were  forced  to  depart  with  the 
conviction  that  the  king  was  anything  but  favorable  to 
the  city. 

The  arrival  of  Savonarola  produced  a  greater  impres- 
sion upon  the  king  and  his  court.  Passing  through  the 
camp  and  the  multitudes  of  armed  men  unmoved,  he 
came  into  the  presence  of  King  Charles  and  proceeded 
to  discharge  his  commission,  which  he  believed  to  be 
derived  not  so  much  from  the  Signoria  of  Florence  as 
from  the  King  of  kings.  It  was  with  this  feeling,  and 
in  a  manner  and  tone  indicating  this  conviction,  that  he 
began  his  address. 

II 


i 


l62 


SAVONAROLA. 


"  O  most  Christian  king,"  he  said,  "  thou  art  an  instru- 
ment in  the  hand  of  the  Lord,  who  sendeth  thee  to  reh'eve 
the  evils  of  Italy  (as  I  have  for  several  years  predicted), 
and  chargeth  thee  to  reform  the  Chu^-ch,  which  lies  pros- 
trate on  the  earth  !  But  if  thou  wilt  \ot  be  just  and  merci- 
ful ;  if  thou  dost  not  respect  the  city  of  Florence,  its 
women,  its  citizens,  its  liberty;  if  thou  forgettest  the  work 
on  which  the  Lord  sends  thee,  then  He  will  choose  another 
to  fulfil  it,  and  He  will  in  anger  lay  His  heavy  hand  upon 
thee,  and  will  punish  thee  with  terrible  scourges.  These 
things  I  tell  thee  in  the  name  of  the  Lord." 


The  king  and  his  nobles  listened  to  Savonarola  as  to 
a  prophet  sent  from  God,  knowing  that  he  had  predicted 
their  invasion  of  Italy;  and  they  were  evidently  far 
more  favorably  disposed  towards  the  interests  of  Flor- 
ence than  they  had  been  before  the  arrival  of  the  Frate. 

How  little  dependence,  however,  was  to  be  placed 
upon  the  promises  of  the  French  king,  how  little  capable 
he  was  even  of  understanding  the  position  of  affairs  in 
Italy  and  his  own  relation  to  them,  was  shown  by  his 
conduct  before  he  left  Pisa.  This  city  had  for  long 
been  subject  to  Florence.  In  some  respects  the  very 
greatness  of  Florence  depended  upon  its  possession  of 
Pisa,  inasmuch  as  it  lay  between  it  and  the  sea.  The 
relationship  had  never  been  a  kindly  one.  The  readi- 
ness to  revolt  on  the  one  side  had  led  to  oppression 
and  tyranny  on  the  other.  It  was  therefore  inevitable 
that  Pisa  should  seek  every  opportunity  of  casting  off 
the  grievous  yoke  under  which  it  suffered.  Here  was 
a  chance  which  could  not  be  neglected ;  and  the  citi- 
zens made  the  most  touching  appeals  to  King  Charles 
to  restore  their  liberty.  As  De  Commines  remarks,  the 
king  knew  very  little  of  the  meaning  of  this  appeal ;  but 


THE  FRENCH  IN  ITALY. 


163 


its 


I:  but 


he  could  not  help  understanding  the  afflictions  of  these 
people,  and  he  replied,  "  he  was  .villing  it  should  be  so ; 
though  (to  speak  truth),"  adds  his  candid  minister,  "  he 
had  no  authority  to  grant  it,  for  the  town  was  not  his 
own,  and  he  was  received  into  it  only  in  friendship,  and 
to  relieve  him  in  his  great  necessities."  The  Pisans 
showed  their  gratitude  by  pulling  down  the  lion  of 
Florence  and  setting  up  a  statue  of  the  king  in  its  place, 
with  the  lion  under  his  horse's  feet.  "  When  the  king 
of  the  Romans  came  to  that  town,"  says  the  same  writer, 
"  they  served  the  statue  of  the  king  of  France  as  they 
had  served  the  lion  \  for  it  is  the  nature  of  the  Italians 
to  side  always  with  the  strongest,  —  rather  to  use  the 
strongest,  as  far  as  they  can,  for  their  own  ends.  But 
these  Pisans  were,  and  still  are,  so  barbarously  treated 
that  they  might  be  excused  for  what  they  did." 

Piero  de'  Medici,  as  we  have  heard,  arrived  in  Flor- 
ence on  the  8th  of  November ;  and  although  he  was 
prepared  to  find  a  change  in  the  bearing  of  the  authori- 
ties towards  himself,  he  must  have  been  surprised  at  the 
coldness  of  the  reception  which  was  accorded  to  him,  — 
a  coldness  which  was  speedily  converted  into  active 
opposition.  The  day  after  his  arrival  he  presented 
himself  at  the  palace  of  the  Signoria  with  the  intention 
of  calling  a  parliament  of  the  whole  people,  and  having 
the  government  of  the  republic  intrusted  to  himself 
alone.  But  the  magistrates,  warned  of  his  design,  re- 
ceived him  in  the  most  chilling  manner,  admitted  only 
a  small  number  of  the  multitude  he  had  brought  with 
him,  and  told  him  to  send  his  people  away  and  not 
create  a  tumult  in  the  city.  He  was  so  confused  by 
this  reception  that  he  could  only  say  he  would  consider 
what  he  should  do,  and  took  his  departure. 


i  ! 


i  7 


1 64 


SAVON'AROLA. 


*  »' 


r< 


The  next  day  he  determined  to  assume  a  more 
threatening  aspect ;  and  he  presented  himself  at  the 
palace,  accompanied  by  a  number  of  armed  men.  But 
he  was  informed  that  no  person  could  be  admitted 
unless  he  was  without  arms  ;  and  he  was  forced  to  turn 
away.  He  had  hardly  done  so  when  he  was  recalled  by 
the  influence  of  Antonio  Lorini,  the  one  member  of 
the  Signoria  who  still  remained  faithful  to  the  Medici. 
Presuming  on  this  invitation  as  a  sign  that  he  was  still 
in  possession  of  his  former  authority,  he  adopted  his 
old  tone  of  insolent  dictation,  when  Nerli  shut  the  door 
in  his  face.  The  people,  who  became  aware  of  what 
was  passing,  needed  no  more  to  let  loose  their  wrath 
and  contempt.  He  was  saluted  everywhere  with  hoots 
and  hisses  and  showers  of  stones.  The  bell  of  the 
Signoria  now  began  to  ring,  and  the  people  rushed, 
some  armed,  some  unarmed,  to  the  Piazza.  Hardly 
had  they  begun  to  assemble  in  front  of  the  palace  when 
a  fresh  incident  occurred  which  inflamed  their  fury. 
Francesco  Valori,  whom  we  have  mentioned  as  one  of 
the  five  citizens  sent  by  Lorenzo  to  Savonarola  with 
a  view  of  inducing  him  to  desist  from  his  manner  of 
preaching,  had  been  a  devoted  friend  of  the  Medici. 
It  would  appear,  however,  that  the  Prior  of  St.  Mark's 
had  acquired  by  degrees  no  slight  influence  over  him, 
although  he  had  still  remained  faithful  to  the  ruling 
family.  He  was  a  man  of  an  ardent  and  generous  dis- 
position, and  the  recent  conduct  of  Piero  had  utterly 
ahenated  him  ;  so  that  he  now  became  one  of  the 
leaders  of  the  popular  party.  It  was  this  man  who  now 
appeared  in  the  Piazza,  covered  with  dust,  having  ridden 
all  the  way  from  Pisa,  where  he  had  left  the  ambas- 
sadors after  their  interview  with  the  king.     The  excited 


Prr 


THE  FRENCH  IN  ITALY. 


165 


multitude  heard  from  him,  with  ever-increasing  rage, 
that  at  Lucca  the  king  had  shown  himself  well  disposed 
towards  them,  but  that  in  consequence  of  the  entreaties 
and  the  promises  of  Piero  he  had  afterwards  received 
them  with  great  coldness  at  Pisa.  It  needed  no  more 
to  rouse  the  populace  to  fury.  Raising  the  cry  of  Ab- 
basso  le  pallcy  —  "  Down  with  the  balls,  "  —  the  rallying 
word  of  the  Medici,  they  rushed  forth  to  attack  their 
palace.^ 

While  this  was  going  on  the  Medici  had  not  been 
idle.  Believing  in  the  power  of  their  name  and  their 
old-established  authority,  they  gathered  together  their 
armed  retainers  and  sought  to  arouse  uieir  supporters  in 
the  city.  But  the  cry  of  Palk  had  lost  it:-;  power.  No 
one  responded  to  it,  and  many  threatened  them  from 
the  windows  of  the  houses.  The  Cardinal  Giovanni,  son 
of  Lorenzo,  afterwards  Pope  Leo  X.,  was  the  foremost  in 
defence  of  his  family.  But  Piero  had  already  consulted 
for  his  own  safety.  Seeing  the  multitude  approaching, 
with  Valori  at  their  head,  and  learning  that  his  family 
had  been  declared  rebels,  he  set  out  for  Bologna,  where 
he  received  a  very  cold  welcome  from  Bentivoglio.  "  I 
would  rather  have  been  cut  to  pieces,"  said  the  haughty 
aristocrat,  "  than  give  up  my  State,"  —  a  boast  which 
was  but  very  little  verified  by  his  own  subsequent  conduct. 
Piero  continued  his  flight  until  at  last  he  found  rest  at 
Venice,  —  the  same  city  in  which  his  great-grandfather 
Cosimo,  but  with  far  greater  dignity,  had  taken  refuge 
when  he  was  driven  away  by  the  conspiracy  of  the 
Albizzi.  He  had  hardly  arrived  at  Venice  when  he 
received  a  message  from  the  French  king  desiring  his 

1  The  cry  of  the  partisans  of  the  Medici  was  Palle,  Palie,  from 
the  balls  in  the  armorial  bearings  of  the  family. 


1 66 


SAVONAROLA, 


k 


return  to  Florence ;  but  he  lacked  courage  and  resolu- 
tion to  take  a  step  which  might  have  changed  the  whole 
history  of  his  family  and  of  Florence. 

The  cardinal  had  shown  a  more  resolute  spirit;  but 
he  too,  at  last,  was  forced  to  make  his  escape.  He  did 
not  depart  until  he  had  done  his  best  to  save  the  most 
valuable  parts  of  the  splendid  collection  of  objects  of 
art  in  the  family  mansion.  It  was  a  remarkable  proof 
of  his  own  confidence  in  the  brethren  of  St.  Mark,  and 
of  the  respect  in  which  they  were  held  in  Florence,  that 
he  committed  these  treasures  to  their  keeping. 

Florence  was  thus  expecting,  in  confusion  and  terror, 
the  approach  of  the  French,  when  Savonarola  returned 
to  announce  that  the  king  seemed  again  better  disposed 
to  the  people,  and  to  urge  them  to  make  preparations  to 
receive  him.  His  counsels  were  seconded  by  the  efforts 
of  Capponi,  who  had  now  become  the  foremost  man  in 
the  practical  direction  of  the  State.  By  his  advice  the 
houses  were  stocked  with  all  the  munitions  of  war,  and 
armed  men  were  disposed  throughout  the  city  and  kept 
ready  in  case  of  need.  Six  thousand  were  prepared  to 
come  forth  at  the  first  stroke  of  the  bell. 

When  the  advance  guard  of  the  French  army  en- 
tered Florence  they  could  not  conceal  their  astonish- 
ment at  the  splendor  of  the  palaces  and  the  general 
magnificence  of  the  city.  By  an  accident  they  were 
made  aware  that  the  conquest  of  the  place  was  not  so 
simple  a  matter  as  they  had  anticipated.  On  the  15th 
of  November  a  rumor  had  spread  abroad  that  Piero  de' 
Medici  was  approaching.  The  bell  sounded,  the  people 
crowded  forth  in  multitudes,  clad  in  armor,  and  filled  the 
Piazza,  the  palaces  were  closed,  the  towers  were  armed, 
fortifications  began  to  arise.     The  falseness  of  the  rumor 


n 


THE  FRENCH  IN  ITALY. 


167 


was  speedily  discovered,  and  instantly  the  former  calm 
prevailed.  But  the  impression  had  been  made  upon 
the  French  that  these  people  would  be  difificult  to  sub- 
due, and  the  Florentines  had  shown  that  they  were  not 
unprepared  for  the  last  extremity. 

The  palace  of  the  Mt'dici  had  been  got  ready  for  the 
king,  and  the  magistrates  and  the  leading  men  of  Flor- 
ence prepared  to  receive  him  with  a  respectful  welcome. 
Charies  rode  at  the  head  of  his  splendid  army  ;  but  his 
magnificent  attire  only  rendered  more  conspicuous  the 
ludicrous  insignificance  of  his  person.  By  his  side  rode 
the  Cardinal  of  San  Pietro  in  Vincoli.  The  sight  of 
such  an  army,  amounting  to  about  twelve  thousand  men, 
marching  in  perfect  order,  was  as  striking  as  it  was  new 
to  the  inhabitants  of  Florence.  They  passed  over  the 
Ponte  Vecchio  in  the  midst  of  floral  decorations  and  to 
the  sound  of  music,  through  the  Piazza,  and  so  on  to 
the  cathedral,  where  they  joined  with  the  Signoria  in 
public  prayer.  The  king  was  then  lodged  in  the  palace 
of  the  Medici.  The  whole  city  was  illuminated  in  honor 
of  their  guests,  and  the  next  day  was  spent  in  feasts. 

At  last  the  time  for  the  negotiations  arrived.  The 
representatives  of  Florence,  elected  by  the  Signoria, 
were  Guidantonio  Vespucci,  Domenico  Bonsi,  Francesco 
Valori,  and  Piero  Capponi.  Of  the  two  last  names  we 
have  already  heard.  Vespucci  was  considered  the  most 
learned  of  the  citizens  in  law,  and  Bonsi  had  distin- 
guished himself  as  an  ambassador.  Capponi,  who  took 
the  lead  in  the  interview  with  the  king,  had  been  hon- 
ored and  trusted  by  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  whose  senior 
he  was  by  one  year,  and  had  displayed  courage  and 
ability  in  the  discharge  of  the  duties  intrusted  to  him 
by  "  The  Magnificent."     Since  the  death  of  Lorenzo  he 


I 


i68 


SAVONAROLA. 


had  been  the  man  of  the  State  most  trusted  in  every 
difficult  enterprise.  He  had  always  had  a  repugnance 
to  the  tyranny  of  the  Medici  and  a  love  of  popular  gov- 
ernment, and  since  the  accession  of  Piero  he  had  been 
looked  upon  as  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  party  opposed 
to  him.  He  knew  the  French  people  well,  having  been 
sent  as  ambassador  to  their  court,  and  he  did  not  hesi- 
tate lo  declare  his  opinion  that  "  When  the  Italians 
came  tace  to  fr  e  with  he  French,  they  would  cta.:»;  to 
have  so  ui'.uh  }  ^^  '■».  Uit  ii."  These  convictions  were 
not  without  th' ir  >  H?  »j.  u  his  future  dealings  with  the 
king. 

Here,  as  elsewhere,  Charles  habitually  acted  without 
any  fixed  principles,  according  to  the  impulse  of  the 
moment  and  the  influences  which  were  nearest  and  most 
powerful  at  the  time.  Although  Piero  had  fled,  his 
mother  and  his  wife  did  not  fail  to  use  every  argument 
to  induce  the  king  to  favor  their  side ;  so  that  he  ap- 
peared inclined  to  espouse  the  cause  of  the  Medici.  He 
assumed  an  aspect  of  severity  towards  the  commissioners 
of  the  republic ;  he  put  forth  the  most  exorbitant  de- 
n'.mds  as  the  conditions  of  peace  ;  he  took  the  attitude 
(tf  one  who  was  dealing  with  a  conquered  city.  Finally, 
l.e  let  fall  some  words  in  favor  of  the  exiled  Piero.  This 
was  the  signal  for  grave  deliberations  on  the  part  of  the 
magistrates,  who  instantly  called  together  the  leading  citi- 
zens and  apprised  them  of  the  threatening  danger.  Prep- 
arations were  made  for  summoning  the  people  together 
by  the  sound  of  the  bell,  and  a  spirit  of  enmity  began 
to  spring  up  between  the  invaders  and  the  populace. 

At  last  the  king  began  to  moderate  his  tone.  He 
dropped  all  reference  to  the  "conquest"  of  the  city;  he 
said  nothing  more  of  Piero ;  he  was  to  take  the  tide  — 


THE  FRENCH  IN  ITALY. 


169 


one  which  had  been  held  by  foreign  sovereigns  in  earlier 
times  —  of  protector  of  the  liberties  of  the  city ;  he  was 
to  retain  the  fortresses  for  ♦^wo  years,  or  for  a  shorter  time 
if  the  war  should  be  L-->ncluded  5  ooner.  /'  .1  was  arranged 
except  the  su'  1  of  money  he  was  to  receive.  On  this 
point  th.  promises  of  the  M^^iici  made  him  exacting. 
It  .-.as  impossible  for  the  Signoria  to  promise  what  the 
city  could  not  nay,  and  the  situation  became  more  and 
mc^e  anxious  and  irritating.  At  last  the  king  ordered 
his  ultimatum  to  be  read,  declaring  that  he  would  not 
recede  from  it.  The  conunissioners  said  they  were  un* 
able  to  comply  with  his  demands.  The  king,  enraged 
at  their  resistance,  exclaimed,  "  Then  we  will  sound  o''. 
trumpets."  Capponi  had  with  difficulty  restrained  hini- 
self  during  the  negotiations  ;  but  the  brave,  proud  spiii' 
of  the  Florentine  now  broke  forth.  Snatching  the  ai  •- 
matuni  from  the  hands  of  the  secretary,  he  tore  it  iii 
pieces,  and  uttered,  with  a  gesture  as  impassioned  '^  - 
king's  own,  the  memorable  words :  "  And  we  will  ring 
our  bells."  They  were  words  of  which  Florence  was 
forever  proud.  Machiavelli  refers  to  them  when  he  says, 
in  one  of  his  poems,  "The  noise  of  arms  and  horses 
could  not  drown  the  voice  of  one  capon  (Cappon)  in 
the  midst  of  a  hundred  cocks  (Galli)."  This  courage- 
ous language  had  more  effect  than  many  entreaties.  It 
was  agreed  that  the  Florentines  should  pay  the  king 
120,000  florins  in  three  instalments,  and  that  Pisa  should 
be  surrendered,  with  the  other  fortresses,  in  two  years, 
or  sooner  if  the  war  ended  before.  The  conditions  of 
the  treaty  were  sworn  to  in  the  cathedral ;  and  the  city, 
if  it  had  lost  its  first  warmth  of  feeling  for  the  French, 
gave  itself  up  to  festivals  and  illuminations  as  at  their 
first  entrance. 


'  'I' 


il'' 


170 


SAVONAROLA. 


V    -^1 


All  seemed  now  satisfactorily  arranged  ;  but  the  king 
showed  no  disposition  to  depart.  Trade  was  suspended, 
French  soldiers  filled  the  city,  disorders  of  all  kinds  pre- 
vailed, and  the  king  was  in  vain  entreated  to  take  his 
leave.  In  this  emergency  it  was  to  Savonarola  that  the 
citizens  again  had  recourse.  The  Frate  did  not  hesitate 
to  approach  the  king ;  and  he  effected  his  purpose  in 
spite  of  the  opposition  offered  by  the  noblemen  and 
officers  round  him,  who  feared  lest  his  influence  with 
their  master  should  prevent  their  contemplated  plunder 
of  the  place.  Charles  received  him  with  kindness,  and 
listened  attentively  to  the  few  earnest  words  which  he 
uttered :  — 

"Most  Christian  Prince,"  said  the  friar,  "thy  delay  in- 
flicts serious  injury  upon  the  city  and  upon  thine  enterprise. 
Thou  art  wasting  time,  forgetting  the  duty  which  Providence 
has  imposed  upon  thee,  with  great  hurt  to  thy  spiritual 
safety  and  thy  worldly  glory.  Listen,  therefore,  to  the  voice 
of  the  servant  of  God.  Go  forth  upon  thy  way  without  delay. 
Do  not  cause  the  ruin  of  this  city,  and  excite  against  thee 
the  wrath  of  the  Lord." 

The  part  taken  by  Savonarola  in  bringing  about  the 
departure  of  the  Frer».rh  has  been  both  exaggerated 
and  denied.  It  would  not  be  correct  to  say  that  he 
procured  the  terms  of  agreement  between  the  repubhc 
and  the  French  king.  The  merit  of  that  arrangement 
must  be  conceded  to  Capponi.  But  it  would  be  equally 
unjust  to  overlook  the  importance  of  Savonarola's  influ- 
ence in  giving  effect  to  the  treaty.  Charles  was  too 
unscrupulous  to  care  much  whether  he  carried  out  the 
stipulations  into  which  he  had  entered,  either  in  the 
letter  or  in  the  spirit ;  and  it  was  undoubtedly  owing  to 
Savonarola  that  he  now  resolved   to  go  forth  out  of 


THE  FRENCH  IN  ITALY. 


171 


Florence.  He  left  the  city  on  the  28th  of  November. 
Few  regrets  could  have  been  entertained  at  the  departure 
of  the  French.  They  had  behaved  with  insolence  during 
the  eleven  days  of  their  sojourn,  and  had  in  no  wise 
treated  the  citizens  as  friends,  but  as  enemies ;  although 
the  resolute  enmity  of  that  one  city  might  have  ruined 
their  whole  enterprise.  The  palace  of  the  Medici,  in 
which  the  king  had  been  royally  entertained,  was  left  a 
mere  wreck. 

Savonarola  had  now  seen  a  considerable  portion  of 
his  predictions  fulfilled,  and  everything  was  concurring 
to  raise  him  higher  in  the  public  estimation.  Not  only 
were  his  most  deadly  enemies,  the  Medici,  driven  from 
the  city,  but  in  this  very  year  two  of  the  most  attached 
friend?  of  that  family  gave,  in  their  last  moments,  the  most 
convincing  proof  of  their  entire  confidence  in  Savonarola. 
Angelo  Poliziano  died  in  September,  at  the  age  of  forty, 
and  requested  that  he  might  be  buried  in  St.  Mark's, 
in  the  Dominican  habit ;  and  Pico  della  Mirandola  the 
elder  died  on  November  1 7th  —  the  very  day  on  which 
Charles  entered  Florence  —  and  made  the  same  request. 
They  sleep  side  by  side  in  the  convent  church.  It  may 
have  comforted  them,  passing  away  almost  in  their  youth, 
to  think  that  they  would  lie  near  the  remains  of  him  who 
had  moved  them  so  powerfully  for  good.  They  did 
not  know,  nor  did  Florence  herself,  what  end  she  was 
preparing  for  her  greatest  man. 


!3:;i 


173 


SAVONAROLA, 


CHAPTER  X. 


4'i»'4 


,  I 


REVOLUTION. 

It  is  one  of  the  miserable  consequences  of  despotism 
that  it  disquahfies  a  people  for  the  exercise  of  liberty 
after  they  have  thrown  off  the  yoke  of  bondage.  It  was 
comparatively  easy  for  the  Florentines,  under  the  circum- 
stances, to  make  an  end  to  the  tyranny  of  the  Medici. 
It  was  a  far  more  difificult  matter  to  recover  those  habits 
and  sentiments  of  independence  and  self-reliance  which 
they  had  lost  during  the  sixty  years  of  subserviency  to 
that  powerful  family.  When  the  French  had  taken 
their  departure,  the  real  difficulties  of  the  city  were  first 
clearly  apprehended. 

The  ordinary  method  with  the  Florentines  of  effecting 
a  change  in  the  manner  of  government  had  been  the 
summoning  of  a  parlamento^  or  assembly  of  the  whole 
people.  This  assembly  was  usually  called  by  the  Signoria. 
At  the  sound  of  the  bell  the  people  came  unarmed  into  the 
Piazza,  and  were  addressed  by  the  magistrates  from  the 
Ringhiera^  —  a  platform  in  front  of  the  Palazzo  Vecchio, 
as  it  is  now  most  commonly  called.  The  first  step  was  the 
appointment  of  a  balia^  or  committee  with  authority  to 
decide  on  the  government  of  the  State,  or  on  any  other 
weighty  matter  that  might  be  intrusted  to  it.     Nothing 

^  The  word  means  "power,"  or  "authority,"  and  was  applied 
to  the  committee  intrusted  with  authority. 


REVOLUTION. 


^n 


could  seem  better  adapted  to  elicit  the  true  feelings 
of  the  people  and  to  give  expression  to  their  wisiK's. 
Notiiing  could  have  been  farther  from  the  actual  resu'ts 
of  these  assemblies.  They  were  seldom  called  until 
the  most  careful  preparations  had  been  made  to  secure 
the  ends  of  those  by  whom  they  were  summoned.  The 
measures  to  be  adopted  had  been  concocted  by  the 
party  in  possession  of  power,  or  desiring  to  become 
possessed  of  it.  The  names  of  those  who  were  to  be 
proposed  on  the  dictatorship  —  for  this  was  the  nature  of 
the  Ihilia  —  were  all  ready.  It  was  by  such  means  that 
the  Medici  and  other  dominant  families  had  paved  the 
way  for  the  execution  of  their  own  ambitious  designs. 

The  Florentines  had  ample  experience  of  the  unre- 
ality and  mischievousness  of  these  assemblies,  but  they 
knew  of  no  other  course  to  be  taken  in  the  reconstruction 
of  their  government.  The  bell  was  sounded  according 
to  ancient  usage,  and  the  people,  headed  by  their  gon- 
faionieri,  proceeded  to  the  Piazza.  The  magistrates  pro- 
posed to  them  the  election  of  commissioners,  to  remain 
in  power  for  one  year,  and  during  that  time  to  have 
authority  to  elect  the  Signoria  and  all  the  principal 
magistrates,  and  to  choose  a  gonfaloniere  di  giustizia 
from  their  number.  The  proposition  was  accepted  by 
the  people  with  every  demonstration  of  joy. 

When  the  Medici  came  into  power  they  preserved  all 
the  ancient  forms  of  republican  liberty.  Finding  that  it 
was  easier  to  reduce  the  authority  of  the  old  institutions 
to  a  shadow  than  to  abolish  them,  both  Cosimo  and 
Lorenzo  had  professed  to  carry  on  the  government  by 
means  of  i,  e  constituted  bodies,  —  the  Signoria,  the 
College,  the  Ten  of  War,  elected  every  six  months, 
the  Eight,  who  had  jurisdiction  in  criminal  causes  and 


\\ 


174 


SAVONAROLA. 


u^mj 


W: 


wkm 


i'li'fi.i 


it  fl'fii! 


•"ft 


■  (! 


.'    I  i 


>  I 


;  1  i 


) ; 


1 1 


were  elected  every  four  months,  and  the  two  councils, 
representing  the  two  classes  of  the  people,  by  whom 
the  magistrates  were  elected  and  the  laws  voted.  But 
Lorenzo,  without  appearing  to  abolish  the  old  institu- 
tions, •  /ithout  summoning  a  parlamento,  by  means  of  a 
friendly  Signoria  carried  through  the  legislative  councils 
an  important  measure,  which  placed  the  whole  power  of 
the  State  more  completely  in  his  own  hands.^  This  was 
the  appointment  of  a  council  or  senate  of  seventy,  whom 
he  took  care  to  have  elected  from  his  own  friends,  and 
whom  he  made  permanent,  with  power  to  fill  up  all 
vacancies  as  they  occurred.  To  these  seventy  was  com- 
mitted the  election  of  the  other  officials  of  the  State,  so 
that  whoever  had  the  real  direction  of  the  senate  was 
the  practical  ruler  of  Florence. 

The  authority  of  this  senate  now  passed  to  the  twenty 
commissioners,  or  electors,  called  accoppiiftori,  who, 
inasmuch  as  they  had  the  bi-monthly  election  of 
the  supreme  Signoria  in  their  hands,  became  the  great 
power  in  the  State  ;  for  the  only  real  check  upon  the 
power  of  the  Signoria  was  the  fact  of  its  being  changed 
every  two  months.  Offices  of  different  kinds  might  be 
inuasted  to  other  hands,  but  the  Signoria,  or  magis- 
trates, had  the  administration  in  their  hands,  the  legisla- 
tion, the  power  of  deciding  cases  in  law,  and  the  right 
of  declaring  war ;  so  that  the  electors  of  this  body,  when 
they  were  permanent,  while  the  Signoria  was  continually 
changing,  had  the  most  perfect  control  over  all  the  affairs 
of  State.  By  vesting  this  power  of  election  in  the  twenty 
accoppiatori,  chosen  by  the  people,  the  Florentines  be- 
lieved that  they  were  re-establishing  popular  power. 

But  they  forgot  that  there  was  an  energy  behind  the 

'  Cf.  Von  Reumont,  b.  v.  c.  i. 


REVOLUTION. 


^75 


senate  which  was  continually  putting  it  in  motion  and 
guiding  its  action  ;  and  people,  whether  individuals  or 
communities,  who  have  been  accustomed  to  lean  on 
others,  do  not  readily  learn  to  rely  upon  themselves,  to 
judge  for  themselves,  and  to  act  upon  the  judgments 
which  they  have  formed.  Among  these  electors,  as 
among  those  who  appointed  them,  there  was  an  absence 
of  what  we  might  call  public  opinion,  or  what  others 
would  call  party  organization ;  and  this  was  seen  when 
they  proceeded  to  the  election  of  a.  gon/a/om'er£.  They 
could  not  get  a  majority  of  their  number  to  agree  on. 
any  one  name.  Every  two  or  three  electors  had  their 
own  candidate,  and  they  became  aware  of  their  helpless- 
ness, without  knowing  how  it  could  be  remedied.  Men 
who  had  been  prompt  and  vigorous  in  action  when  they 
saw  clearly  the  work  that  was  to  be  done,  were  incapable 
of  guiding  the  deliberations  of  their  fellow-citizens.  In 
this  difticulty  their  minds  turned  to  the  constitution  of 
Venice  as  offering  a  model  which  might,  to  some  extent, 
become  an  example  for  themselves. 

When,  however,  they  came  to  discuss  the  subject  of 
conforming  their  own  constitution  to  the  Venetian,  there 
arose  a  difference  of  opinion  amgng  them.  It  was  gen- 
erally agreed  that  most  of  the  magistrates  and  officials 
that  had  existed  before  the  time  of  Lorenzo  should  be 
preserved  or  restored,  —  the  Signoria,  the  Eight  for  the 
decision  of  criminal  and  political  causes,  the  Ten  as  a 
war  miniFlry,  and  the  gonfaloniere  di  conipagnia.  But 
when  they  came  to  consider  the  constitution  of  the 
councils  by  which  these  functionaries  should  be  elected, 
they  could  no  longer  agree.  The  two  sections  were  led 
by  two  doctors  in  law,  Vespucci  and  Soderini.  Accord- 
ing to  the  latter,  the  true  method  was  to  form  a  council 


W 


i 


176 


SAVONAROLA. 


i 


after  the  model  of  the  great  council  of  Venice,  which 
should  consist  of  the  popular  element  and  have  the 
election  of  the  magistrates  and  the  passing  of  the  laws, 
and  besides  this,  to  have,  like  the  Venetians,  a  smaller 
council,  consisting  of  a  higher  class  of  men,  who  should 
decide  matters  that  could  not  be  properly  discussed  in 
public.  Vespucci,  on  the  other  hand,  represented  that 
the  great  council  of  Venice  was  an  aristocratic  body, 
and  that  to  form  such  a  council  of  the  people  in- 
discriminately would  be  to  renew  and  perpetuate  the 
old  excesses  and  disturbances  which  had  disgraced  the 
republic  in  past  times.  ^ 

These  opposing  views  were  discussed  at  great  length 
without  leading  to  any  general  agreement.  At  last  the 
thoughts  of  men  turned  instinctively  to  Savonarola. 
He  had  guided  them  through  their  difficulties  with  the 
French  king,  and  they  now  looked  to  him  for  direction 
in  their  present  perplexity.  It  is  most  untrue  to  say 
that  Savonarola  did,  of  his  own  accord,  meddle  with 
the  politics  of  the  State.  He  could  never  be  indifferent 
to  the  manner  in  which  his  countrymen  were  governed, 
because  he  saw  the  most  intimate  connection  between 
the  government  and  the  morals  of  the  people.  He 
knew  that  when  reasonable  liberty  was  gone,  nearly  all 
that  was  good  and  noble  in  men  must  perish  with  it. 
But  he  cared  for  politics  only  as  the  ins  lument  of 
morality,  and  he  constantly  warned  the  citizens  that 
the  first  step  to  true  liberty  and  happiness  was  the 
reformation  of  manners. 

We  have  seen  how  far  he  was  from  inflaming  the 
passions  of  the  populace  when  their  wrath  first  broke 
out  against  Piero  de'  Medici.      It   is  certain  that  he 

1  Guicciardini  has  preserved  their  arguments. 


\A  \ 


REVOLUTION. 


177 


took  no  part  in  the  expulsion  of  the  Medici  from  Flor- 
ence,* for  he  had  not  then  returned  from  Pisa  after 
his  interview  with  King  Charles.  And  now  he  began 
to  introduce  distinct  political  allusions  into  his  sermons, 
because  it  was  expected  that  he  should  do  so,  because 
the  people  needed  guidance  and  looked  to  him  for 
it,  and  because  he  believed  diat  God  had  appointed 
him  to  be  their  teacher. 

In  his  first  sermons  on  the  subjects  of  the  day  he 
exhorted  the  wealthy  to  abandon  luxurious  living,  that 
they  might  give  to  the  poor,  who  were  in  great  distress 
in  consequence  of  the  cessation  of  business,  which  had 
not  been  generally  resumed  since  the  occupation  of  the 
city  by  the  French.  He  said  that,  if  necessary,  he 
would  sell  the  vessels  of  the  church  and  the  vestments  of 
the  clergy  to  alleviate  the  destitution  which  prevailed ; 
but  they  must  see  at  once  that  the  shops  were  opened, 
and  that  work  was  provided  for  the  unemployed.  Un- 
doubtedly, he  told  them,  it  was  the  will  of  God  that  bad 
government  should  cease,  that  evil  customs  and  unequal 
laws  should  be  abolished  \  but  it  was  still  more  neces- 
sary that  they  should  fulfil  their  obvious  duties. 

"This  is  a  time,"  he  said,  '*in  which  words  must  give 
way  to  deeds,  and  vain  ceremonies  to  true  sentiments. 
The  Lord  hath  said:  'I  was  an  hungered,  and  ye  gave 
me  no  meat:  I  was  naked,  and  ye  clothed  me  not.'  He 
never  said  :  '  Ye  built  not  a  beautiful  church  or  a  fine  con- 
vent.' He  speaks  only  of  works  of  charity.  We  must 
begin  our  work  of  renovation,  then,  with  charity." 

1  It  has  been  erroneously  supposed  that  he  did  so,  by  Perrens 
and  othefs ;  but  Villari  has  shown  that  this  error  arose  from  the 
wrong  arrangement  of  his  sermons,  and  that  he  had  not  then 
returned  to  Florence. 

12 


Ml 


■•^mm 


178 


SAVONAROLA. 


11 


•'1 


nu 


n 


I  ■:  1 1 

1  ': 


But  this  did  not  satisfy  the  expectations  of  the  peo- 
ple ;  and  at  last  he  began,  on  the  third  Sunday  in  Ad- 
vent, December  12th  of  the  same  year  (1494),  to  speak 
more  directly  on  the  subject  of  politics.  The  opinions 
which  he  expressed  in  his  sermons  he  afterwards  pub- 
lished in  his  "  Treatise  on  the  Government  of  Flor- 
ence," ^  —  a  tract  which  he  composed  at  the  request  of 
the  Signori,  and  which  he  dedicated  to  them.  From 
his  sermons  preached  at  this  time,  as  well  as  from  the 
treatise,  it  is  evident  that  Savonarola  was  not  in  theory 
a  republican.  A  monarchy  was  the  form  of  govern- 
ment which  he  would  himself  have  preferred ;  but  he 
acknowledged  that,  while  it  was  the  best  government 
when  the  monarch  was  a  good  and  wise  man,  it  was 
the  worst  when  he  was  a  bad  man.  Besides,  he  con- 
fessed that  it  was  ill  adapted  for  Italy  and  for  Florence. 
There,  he  feared,  it  could  only  exist  as  a  tyranny. 

"  The  only  government  that  can  suit  us,"  he  said,  "  is 
the  government  of  the  citizens  and  that  which  is  universal.^ 
Woe  to  thee,  O  Florence,  if  thou  makest  to  thyself  a  head, 
a  cliief  who  can  oppress  and  domineer  over  the  rest ! 
From  tliese  heads  arise  all  the  evils  that  can  ruin  a  city. 
And  therefore  the  first  law  which  thou  shouldst  make  will 
be  this  ■  That  no  one  must  ever,  for  the  future,  be  made 
head  over  thy  city;  otherwise  thou  wilt  be  cast  dow^n  into 
the  dust.  Thosf^  men  who  wish  to  elevate  themselves 
above  all  others,  and  who  cannot  endure  civil  equality,  are 
the  worst  of  all ;  they  seek  the  ruin  of  their  own  souls  and 
that  of  the  people. 

*'  O  my  people ! "  he  exclaims,  "  you  know  that  I  have 
never  wished  to  enter  into  the  affairs  of  the  State ;  think 

1  Trattato  circa  il  reggimento  e  governo  della  Cittk  di  Fi- 
renze.     Republished  at  Florence,  1847. 

2  Governo  civile  ed  universale. 


REVOLUTION. 


179 


you  that  I  should  do  so  now  if  I  did  not  see  that  it  was 
necessary  for  the  safety  of  men's  souls  ?  You  would  not 
believe,  but  now  you  see,  that  my  words  are  all  proved 
true ;  that  they  are  not  mine,  but  that  they  come  from  the 
Lord.  Give  ear,  then,  to  one  who  seeks  only  your  salva- 
tion. Purify  your  hearts,  give  heed  to  the  common  good, 
forget  private  interests  ;  and  if  you  reform  your  city  in 
this  disposition,  it  will  be  more  glorious  than  it  has  ever 
been." 

And  then,  breaking  into  prayer,  he  cries  out :  — 

"  Open,  O  Lord,  the  heart  of  this  people,  that  they  may 
understand  those  things  which  are  in  my  mind,  and  that 
Thou  hast  revealed  and  commanded  them." 

The  beginning  of  all  reforms,  he  told  them,  must  be 
in  the  heart  and  life.  Spiritual  things  are  the  origin 
of  all  right  principle  and  action,  and  all  temporal  good 
ought  to  subserve  the  moral  and  religious  good  upon 
which  it  depends.  Then,  referring  to  the  well-known 
saying  of  Cosimo  de'  Medici,  he  goes  on,  — 

"  If  you  have  heard  it  declared  that  '  States  are  not 
governed  with  Pater  Nosters,'  remember  that  this  is  ihe 
theory  of  tyrants,  of  men  who  are  the  enemies  of  God  and 
of  the  common  weal, — a  theory  invented  to  oppress  and 
not  to  elevate  and  free  the  State.  On  the  contrary,  if 
you  would  have  a  good  government,  you  must  return  o 
God.  If  it  were  not  so,  I  should  certainly  not  trouble  \  y- 
self  about  the  State. 

"  The  form  which  is  best  adapted  for  this  city,"  he  con- 
tinues, "  is  that  of  a  great  council,  after  the  Venetian  an- 
ner.  And  therefore  I  advise  you  to  assemble  thf^  a  lole 
city  under  the  sixteen  gonfalonieri,  and  let  each  me  of 
the  companies  choose  a  form  ;  from  the  sixteen  thus  ob- 
tained let  the  gonfalonieri  select  four,  and  take  them  to 


.^r- 


::4 


i8o 


SAVONAROLA. 


the  Signoria,  who,  after  solemn  prayer  has  been  offered, 
shall  choose  the  best.  And  that  which  is  thus  chosen, 
you  may  feel  certain,  will  come  from  God.  I  believe 
myself  that  the  form  chosen  will  be  the  Venetian ;  but 
you  need  not  be  ashamed  to  imitate  that,  because  they 
also  have  had  it  from  the  Lord,  from  whom  cometh  every- 
thing that  is  good.  You  see  that  from  the  time  that  this 
government  has  prevailed  in  Venice  no  divisions  or  dis- 
sensions have  arisen  in  that  city ;  and  therefore  we  must 
believe  that  it  is  accordins:  to  the  will  of  God." 


!!'! 


mM\ 


l;f 


''i  11 


The  influence  of  Savonarola  was  at  this  time  felt  to 
be  so  salutary  that  he  was  frequently  requested  by  the 
Signoria  to  preach  on  these  subjects  in  St.  Mark's,  and 
also  in  the  palace.  At  last,  in  a  sermon  in  the  cathe- 
dral, at  which  only  men  were  present,  he  put  forth 
these  four  points  as  embodying  the  principles  of  true 
government :  — 

1.  The  fear  of  God  and  the  restoration  of  good  man- 
ners and  customs. 

2.  The  love  of  popular  government  and  of  the  pub- 
lic good,  setting  aside  all  private  interests. 

3.  A  general  amnesty,  by  which  they  should  absolve 
the  friends  of  the  past  government  from  all  faults,  remit- 
ting all  fines,  and  showing  indulgence  towards  those 
who  were  indebted  to  the  State. 

4.  To  constitute  a  form  of  universal  government, 
which  should  comprehend  all  the  citizens,  to  whom, 
according  to  the  ancient  ordinances  of  the  city,  the 
government  belonged. 

He  concluded  by  suggesting  the  formation  of  a  great 
council,  after  the  Venetian  model,  but  adapted  to  the 
genius  of  the  people  of  Florence. 

The  clear  statement  of  these  principles,  enforced  by 


•••'••--I., 


REVOLUTION, 


i8i 


the  air  of  authority  with  which  they  were  set  forth, 
produced  an  irresistible  effect  on  the  people.  Even 
those  who  had  only  a  very  partial  sympathy  with  the 
character  and  action  of  Savonarola  have  expressed  their 
admiration  of  his  conduct  on  this  occasion  and  their 
astonishment  at  the  results  which  he  produced.  Men 
of  the  world  living  near  his  own  time  admired  his  talent 
for  administration,  and  confessed  that  the  government 
which  he  gave  to  Florence  was  the  best  that  it  had  ever 
enjoyed.!  It  was  reserved  for  scoffers  of  a  later  age 
to  speak  of  him  as  a  mixture  of  cunning  and  fanaticism. 
Those  who  study  with  impartiality  his  spoken  utter- 
ances, his  well-considered  written  testimony,  his  whole 
conduct  and  deportment  during  these  times  of  per- 
plexity and  doubt,  will  see  that  he  was  speaking  the  truth 
when  he  said  he  would  not  have  mixed  in  the  affairs 
of  the  State  but  for  the  good  of  men's  souls  and  for  the 
glory  of  that  Lord  wi-v-  iiad  sent  him  to  do  His  work. 

The  sermons  preached  by  Savonarola  on  w-  Prophet 
Haggai  in  Advent,  and  those  on  the  Psalms,  ..nicii  were 
delivered  immediately  afterwards,  are  not  only  of  im- 
portance as  showing  tne  influence  which  he  then  exer- 
cised in  the  State,  they  are  valuable  historical  documents. 
Every  step  in  the  reconstruction  of  the  edifice  of  Floren- 
tine government  was  introduced  by  a  sermon  from  the 
Frate,  so  that  the  history  of  the  period  can  be  traced  in 
his  successive  discourses.  The  first  step  was  to  gain  the 
consent  of  the  two  councils  of  the  people  to  the  forma- 
tion of  a  great  council ;  and  this  was  done  with  almost 
entire  unanimity.     The  council  was  invested  with  power 


--.  'i-l 


1  Francesco  Forti  says :  "  The  reform  of  the  Frate  was  per- 
haps the  only  just  government  which  Florence  possessed  in  its 
republican  state." 


1 82 


SAVONAROLA. 


^U' 


K 


m 


i 


to  elect  all  the  chief  magistrates  and  to  sanction  all  the 
laws,  so  that  it  was  made  the  supreme  authority  in  the 
State. 

The  charge  against  Savonarola,  that  he  was  founding 
a  government  utterly  democratic  and  plebeian,  is  entirely 
without  foundation.  Before  a  man  could  be  a  member 
of  the  great  council  he  must  be  of  the  age  of  twenty- 
nine  years  and  one  of  the  beiieficiati  of  the  citizens ; 
that  is  to  say,  either  himself,  his  father,  his  grandfather, 
or  his  great-grandfather  must  have  held  one  of  the  three 
highest  offices  in  the  State.  This  council,  be  it  observed, 
was  the  only  body  which  really  possessed  the  franchise 
under  the  reformation  of  Savonarola ;  and  it  was  so  far 
from  being  merely  plebeian  that  there  were  actually  two 
classer,  of  the  citizens  who  had  no  place  in  it,  —  those 
called  statuati,  who  were  eligible  to  offices  which  would 
qualify  them  for  a  place  in  the  council,  and  those  called 
aggrazezzaii,  who  paid  taxes,  had  the  right  to  carry  arms, 
and  certain  other  civil  privileges ;  while  below  these  were 
the  other  inhabitants  of  the  city,  who  had  no  part  in  the 
government  or  special  rights  of  citizenship. 

It  was  arranged  that  when  the  number  of  the  bcnefici- 
a// exceeded  fifteen  hundred,  they  should  be  divided  into 
three  parts,  which  should,  in  succession,  form  the  great 
council  for  six  months.  It  is  said  that  Florence  at  that 
time  contained  ninety  thousand  inhabitants,^  of  whom 
only  thirty-two  hundred  were  qualified  ;  so  that  the  coun- 
cil would  consist  of  little  more  than  a  thousand  persons  at 
a  time.  In  order  to  give  it  a  more  comprehensive  char- 
acter, it  was  decided  to  elect  sixty  citizens  not  beneficiati^ 
and  twenty  young  men  of  the  age  of  twenty-four  years, 
as  members  of  the  council. 

»  C£.  Villari,  lib.  ii.  c.  5. 


REVOLUTION. 


183 


,'M 


The  lesser  council,  which  formed  the  senate,  or  upper 
house  of  government,  was  to  consist  of  eighty  citizens 
of  not  less  than  lorty  years  of  age,  who  were  to  be  re- 
newed every  six  months.  This  body  was  to  assist  the 
Signoria,  who  were  required  to  consult  it  at  least  once 
a  week ;  and  these,  together  with  the  colleges  of  gon- 
falonieri  and  the  other  magistrates,  were  to  nominate 
ambassadors  and  conduct  other  matters  of  importance 
which  could  not  be  decided  in  public.  When  it  was  in- 
tended to  pass  a  new  law,  the  proposto  (provost  or  pres- 
ident), who  was  one  of  the  Signori,  and  changed  every 
day,  proposed  it  to  the  Signoria ;  if  it  was  passed  by 
them  and  the  colleges,  they  might  then  cnll  together  a 
committee  of  experienced  citizens  and  obtain  their  judg- 
ment, if  the  matter  seemed  of  sufficient  importance,  or 
they  might  carry  it  to  the  Eighty  at  once ;  and  from 
them  it  went  to  the  great  council,  by  whose  consent  it 
became  law.  It  should  be  added  that  these  assemblies 
had  the  power  of  voting  only,  and  not  of  discussing. 
Not  unless  their  members  were  called  upon  to  express 
their  opinions  could  they  do  so,  and  then  only  in  favor 
of  the  proposed  law.  This  course,  which  at  first  may 
seem  unreasonable,  was  rendered  necessary  by  the  num- 
ber of  persons  constituting  these  bodies.  Another  pro- 
vision was  made  at  the  same  time,  which  was  intended 
to  meet  the  existing  necessities  of  the  State.  This  was 
the  election  of  ten  citizens  who  should  have  the  power 
of  remitting,  in  whole  or  in  part,  any  unpaid  taxes  or 
fines  imposed  by  the  late  government,  and  who  should 
rearrange  the  public  imposts  and  taxes,  laying  them 
principally  upon  real  property.  This  last  regulation,  al- 
though it  rendered  ecclesiastical  property  liable  to  taxa- 
tion, had  been  strongly  recommended  from  the  pulpit  by 


I 


i84 


SAVONAROLA. 


ill 


J. 


i 

I 


Savonarola.  Villari  informs  us  that  this  measure  was 
carried  out  with  so  much  prudence  and  justice  that  to 
this  day  the  system  introduced  by  the  advice  of  Savo- 
narola is  maintained  in  Florence.  It  was  provided  that 
each  citizen,  without  distinction,  should  pay  to  the  State 
one  tenth  of  the  rent  derived  from  his  real  property  {beni 
stabili) . 

Savonarola  had  never  ceased  to  preach  peace  and 
mercy  and  unity  during  the  troubles  of  Florence ;  and 
a  measure  came  now  to  be  decided  which  was  closely 
connected  with  the  political  changes  which  had  taken 
place.  It  has  been  mentioned  that  there  was  a  body 
of  eight  magistrates  who  decided  upon  all  political  and 
criminal  offences.  This  body  had  the  power,  by  a 
majority  of  six  votes  {sei  fave^  "six  beans,"  as  it  was 
called),  to  condemn  an  accused  person  to  imprison- 
ment, banishment,  a  pecuniary  fine,  or  even  to  death.  In 
consequence  of  the  strong  party  feeling  which  often 
prevailed,  it  became  necessary  to  have  some  appeal 
from  the  decision  of  the  Eight,  or  from  that  of  the  Signo- 
ria,  by  whom  the  powers  of  the  Eight  were  commonly 
appropriated. 

On  the  general  subject  of  appeal  the  voice  of  Savo- 
narola was  heard ;  but  a  most  important  divergence  took 
place  as  to  the  body  to  whom  the  appeal  should  be  car- 
ried. The  Frate  knew  well  that  the  mob  was  most  easily 
made  the  tool  of  the  despot,  that  a  larger  body  of  men 
were  more  apt  to  be  led  away  by  passion  than  a  smaller 
and  more  select  assembly ;  and  he  proposed  that  the 
appeal  should  be  carried,  not  to  the  Consiglio  Mag- 
giore,  but  to  the  Council  of  Eighty.     It  was  immediately 

^  Hence  the  law  giving  an  appeal  fron:i  their  decision  was 
called  "  La  legge  delle  sei  fave." 


,1,; 


REVOLUTION. 


185 


i 


complained  that  this  was  to  destroy  the  authority  of  the 
Signoria.  "  Surely  not,"  said  Savonarola  ;  "  it  will  only 
strengthen  their  hands.  If  they  are  doing  right,  the 
council  will  confirm  it ;  if  they  are  doing  wrong,  they 
will  be  glad  to  be  set  right." 

It  is  easy  now  to  see  that  Savonarola's  proposal  was 
the  right  one,  and  it  is  equally  easy  to  see  how  it  failed. 
The  men  in  authority  were  opposed  to  every  appeal,  as 
taking  these  judicial  decisions  out  of  their  hands ;  the 
mob  were  jealous  of  such  privileges  being  intrusted  to 
what  they  regarded  as  a  select  and  aristocratic  chamber. 
Hence  there  was  a  union  of  force  s  against  the  scheme 
of  the  Frate  which  could  appeal  only  to  the  reason  and 
not  to  the  prejudices  of  the  people.  The  multitude  de- 
sired that  the  power  of  revising  these  criminal  sentences 
should  be  possessed  by  the  greater  council ;  the  aristo- 
crats saw  clearly  that  they  could  more  easily  turn  the 
larger  body  to  their  own  purposes,  and  they  too  opposed 
the  intrusting  of  these  powers  to  the  Eighty.  That  very 
Vespucci  who  had  opposed  the  formation  of  the  great 
council,  on  the  ground  that  it  was  intended  to  be  dem- 
ocratic, and  not  aristocratic,  as  in  Venice,  to  the  astonish- 
ment of  all  spoke  strongly  in  favor  of  these  appeals  be- 
ing carried  to  the  larger  assembly.  He  wanted,  he  said, 
the  equality  of  all  the  citizens,  and  this  was  the  way  to 
attain  it.  Wh  t  he,  and  others  like  him,  really  wanted 
was  a  body  with  which  they  couM  do  as  they  pleased  ; 
and  they  used  the  ignorant  prejuuices  and  unreasoning 
passions  of  the  multitude  to  gain  their  ends.  All  this 
was  clearly  perceived  by  Savonarola,  but  h^  was  power- 
less to  prevent  the  fatal  decision.  It  may  have  been 
that  his  deep  loyalty  to  the  freedom  of  the  people  hin- 
dered his  using  the  k;   '^  of  argument  which  the  other 


^. 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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1 86 


SAVONAROLA. 


side  employed.  In  this  point,  at  least,  his  suggestion 
was  not  followed ;  and  the  most  cruel  part  of  the  affair 
is  that  he  has  been  made  responsible  by  many  writers 
for  this  mischievous  law,  although  he  did  his  best  to  pre- 
vent its  being  passed.  Here,  as  in  many  other  cases,  a 
more  minute  examination  of  the  documents  of  the  period 
and  of  his  own  sermons  has  served  to  clear  his  memory 
from  blame. 

There  was  one  other  measure  of  change  upon  which 
Savonarola  had  set  his  heart,  —  the  abolition  of  the  par- 
lamento.  It  has  already  been  mentioned  that  the  par- 
lamento  was  an  assembly  of  the  whole  people,  called  into 
the  Piazza,  by  the  sound  of  the  bell,  to  decide  on  any 
considerable  change  in  the  government,  and  to  appoint 
a  ^a/ia  for  giving  effect  to  their  resolutions.  To  an 
inexperienced  mind,  nothing  could  seem  more  open, 
straightforward,  constitutional,  democratic.  Here  were 
the  whole  people  assembled  to  give  their  consent  to  a 
change  which  concerned  every  one  of  them.  The  trans- 
action, as  a  rule,  was  as  hollow  as  it  was  specious. 

We  who  live  in  the  nineteenth  century  have  seen 
something  as  pretentious  and  as  unreal  in  our  own  days. 
It  is  not  long  since  a  great  nation  was  invited  to  declare 
its  mind  by  a  plebiscite.  What  could  be  fairer  ?  Let  all 
men  say  whether  it  is  their  will  to  have  an  emperor ! 
And  simple-minded  English  people  looked  on  with  puz- 
zled admiration  and  asked :  "  Is  not  this  as  good  as  a 
general  election,  and  very  much  the  same  thing?"  It 
was,  indeed,  a  very  different  thing.  The  people  were 
simply  asked  to  sanction  a  foregone  conclusion.  And  if 
they  refused,  what  was  the  alternative?  It  was  not  a 
change  of  policy  or  a  change  of  ministers,  it  was  a  rev- 
olution ;  and  that  was  a  serious  thing  to  face. 


ii 


»sm 


REVOLUTION. 


187 


t  a 


There  was  just  as  much  unreality  in  the  parlamento. 
Like  ihQ plebiscite f  it  was  intended  for  the  mere  sanction- 
ing and  registering  of  a  decision  already  arrived  at,  and 
it  was  the  simplest  and  most  useful  instrument  that  des- 
potism could  employ.  "  I  have  thought,"  said  Savona- 
rola, in  one  of  his  sermons,  "  I  have  thought  of  this 
parlamento  of  yours,  and  it  seems  to  me  to  be  nothing 
else  but  a  means  of  destruction,  and  therefore  it  is  ne- 
cessary to  put  it  away."  And  again,  with  still  greater 
energy  :  "  People,  when  you  hear  the  bell  sounding  to 
assemble  a.  parlamento^  rise  up,  draw  your  swords,  and 
say,  *  What  do  you  want  ?  Have  we  not  our  council, 
which  is  sufficient  ?  What  law  do  you  want  to  make  ? 
Cannot  the  council  pass  it  ? '  Therefore  I  want  you  to 
make  a  law  that,  when  the  Signoria  enter  upon  their 
office,  they  shall  take  an  oath  not  to  call  a.  parlamento.^* 
To  these  words  he  added  language  still  stronger,  bid- 
ding the  people  be  ready,  in  case  the  Signoria  should 
make  such  a  proposal,  and,  the  moment  they  set  their 
feet  on  the  ringhiera^  at  once  cut  them  in  pieces. 
This  language  represented  the  Frate's  deep  conviction 
of  the  mischievousness  of  these  assemblies,  and  not  his 
habitual  spirit  and  feeling  towards  poHtical  opponents. 
Already  he  saw  signs  of  approaching  divisions  and  of 
fresh  attempts  to  restore  the  party  which  had  been 
driven  from  power ;  and  he  may  be  forgiven  if  he  used 
violent  language  in  prospect  of  real  and  alarming  dan- 
gers, threatening  to  undo  the  whole  of  the  work  for 
which  he  had  labored  with  such  zeal  and  success. 

The  law  was  passed  as  he  had  desired.  On  the  28th 
of  July  (1495)  he  preached  the  sermon  containing  the 

1  The  platform  in  front  of  the  palazzo,  from  which  they  ad< 
dressed  the  populace. 


I( 


I 


K 


I 


i 


! 


i88 


SAVONAROLA. 


words  which  we  have  quoted.  On  the  13th  of  August 
it  was  decreed  by  the  authority  of  the  Signori  and  the 
gonfaloniere  of  the  republic,  with  the  consent  of  the 
councils,  "  that  for  the  future  it  should  not  be  possible 
to  make  a  parlamento ;  that  the  Signoria  should  take 
an  oath,  on  their  entrance  into  office,  never  to  convoke 
one ;  th?  whoever  should  plot  such  a  thing  should  be 
subject  to  the  penalty  of  death  \  and  whoever  should 
reveal  such  a  design  should  have  a  reward  of  300 
florins." 

It  will  be  remembered  that  one  of  the  first  subjects 
which  Savonarola  brought  before  the  people,  when  he 
began  to  introduce  the  affairs  of  the  State  into  his  ser- 
mons, was  the  condition  of  the  poor.  And  now,  no 
sooner  was  the  constitution  of  the  republic  finally  settled 
than  he  turned  his  attention  to  the  best  means  of  reliev- 
ing the  wants  of  the  needy  and  destitute.  For  this  pur- 
pose he  recommended  the  formation  of  a  Monte  di  Pieti, 
or  "  Compassionate  Bank,"  entreating  that  all,  and  es- 
pecially women  who  had  more  money  than  they  needed, 
should  assist  in  its  establishment.  There  was,  indeed* 
a  great  necessity  for  some  such  institution.  In  Florence, 
as  elsewhere,  money-lending  was  chiefly  in  the  hands  of 
the  Jews,  who  charged  the  most  exorbitant  interest ;  and 
this  again  led  to  serious  popular  outbreaks  against  that 
people.  Savonarola  had  never  joined  in  those  persecu- 
tions, he  would  rather  convert  the  Jews  to  the  Chris- 
tian faith  ;  but  he  would  also  take  away  the  occasion  of 
their  exactions.  Tliis  he  proposed  to  accomplish  by  the 
Monte  di  Piet^  At  first  he  wished  that  money  should 
be  lent  without  any  interest  being  charged ;  but  this  plan 
was  found  impracticable.  He  succeeded,  however,  in 
passing  a  law  that  the  bank  should  be  established,  that 


REVOLUTION. 


189 


no 


the  expense  of  its  administration  should  not  exceed  600 
florins  a  year,  and  that  the  interest  charged  should 
not  be  more  than  six  per  cent.*  It  was  not  all  that  he 
desired,  but  it  was  a  measure  which  brought  very 
great  relief  to  the  class  for  whom  he  had  intended 
it. 

In  the  amnesty  now  passed,  there  is  one  case  which 
deserves  a  passing  notice.  On  the  8th  of  June,  1495, 
the  magistrates  decreed  as  follows :  "  Considering  that 
Messer  Dante  Alighieri,  great-grandson  of  Dante  the 
poet,  is  unable  to  enter  the  city  in  consequence  of  not 
having  been  able  to  pay  the  tax  imposed  by  the  magis- 
trates of  last  November  and  December,  and  judging  it 
well  to  show  some  gratitude  to  the  descendant  of  that 
poet  who  was  so  great  an  ornament  to  this  city,  they 
decree  that  the  said  Messer  Dante  shall  consider  himself 
to  be,  and  shall  be,  free  from  every  restriction  or  hin- 
drance whatever."  "  It  was,"  says  Villari,  "  a  tardy  par- 
don to  the  memory  of  the  great  Ghibelline,  an  act  of 
justice  too  slender  to  the  name  of  the  divine  poet ;  yet 
it  did  no  small  honor  to  the  republic  that  it  should  have 
thought  of  it  in  the  first  days  of  its  new  birth." 

Those  who  would  rightly  estimate  the  intellectual  ca- 
pacity, the  administrative  ability,  the  moral  influence 
of  the  great  Dominican  friar,  who  was  now  the  ruling 
heart  and  mind  of  Florence,  need  only  survey  the  work 
accomplished  in  the  first  year  or  two  that  had  elapsed 
since  the  expulsion  of  the  Medici.  It  was  at  this  time 
that  the  statue  of  Judith  slaying  Holofernes,  the  work 
of  Donatello,  which  had  formerly  been  the  property  of 

1  It  was  in  1496  that  this  measure  became  law;  but  it  is  more 
convenient  to  give  in  one  view  the  reforms  which  were  accom- 
plished under  the  influence  of  Savonarola. 


f 


190 


SAVONAROLA. 


the  Medici,  was  set  up.*  It  was  intended  as  a  monu- 
ment of  the  triumph  of  the  republic,  and  bore  upon  it 
an  inscription  to  the  effect  that  the  citizens  had  placed 
it  there  as  a  memorial  *-^  the  safety  of  the  common- 
wealth." The  monument,  with  its  inscription,  has  been 
permitted  to  stand  through  all  the  changes  which  Flor- 
ence has  undergone  during  the  space  of  nearly  four 
centuries. 

One  other  memorial,  still  existing,  of  the  changes  in- 
troduced at  this  time  should  be  mentioned  here.  It  is 
the  Sala  del  Cinquecento  *  (Hall  of  the  Five  Hundred), 
a  chamber  170  feet  in  length  and  75  in  breadth,  which 
was  built  for  the  accommodation  of  the  greater  council. 
There  was  no  chamber  in  Florence  of  sufficient  dimen- 
sions to  contain  so  large  a  body,  and  at  the  suggestion 
of  Savonarola  a  portion  of  the  Palazzo  Vecchio  left  un- 
finished by  the  Duke  of  Athens  was  adapted  for  the 
purpose.  It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  the  first  Parlia- 
ment of  United  Italy  was  held  under  King  Victor  Em- 
manuel in  this  chamber  during  the  time  that  Florence 
was  the  capital  of  the  kingdom. 

1  Originally  in  front  of  the  palazzo.  In  1504  it  was  removed 
to  the  Loggia  dei  Lanzi,  to  make  room  for  the  David  of  Michael 
Angelo. 

2  Exempltitn  sal :  pub:  cives  fosuere.  MCCCCXCV. 

'  Built  under  the  direction  of  Lionardo  da  Vinci  and  Michael 
Angelo,  and  in  such  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time  that  Savo- 
narola said,  "  the  angels  must  have  assisted." 


REFORMATION  OP  MANNERS. 


I9X 


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lael 


lael 
javo- 


CHAPTER  XI. 


REFORMATION   OF  MANNERS. 


If  Savonarola  was  urged  by  the  force  of  circumstances 
to  take  part  in  the  political  struggles  of  the  day,  he  could 
always  say  with  perfect  truth  that  he  had  not  willingly 
chosen  this  course  for  himself.  His  whole  conduct 
proved  the  sincerity  of  his  answer  to  those  who  accused 
him  of  meddling  with  politics,  that  he  had  done  so  for  the 
safety,  the  well-being,  the  salvation  of  the  people.  In 
his  sermons  and  in  his  public  action  he  ever  made  it 
clear  that  with  him  politics  were  subordinate  to  religion. 
If  he  wished  that  Florence  should  be  free,  it  was  that  its 
people  might  be  righteous  and  God-fearing. 

It  is,  indeed,  one  of  the  reproaches  brought  against 
the  Frate  that,  in  his  subsequent  course  of  action,  he 
advocated  theories  and  principles  which  were  inapplica- 
ble to  the  actual  condition  of  human  society.  If  this  be 
true,  and  we  shall  see  that  there  is  some  truth  in  the  re- 
mark, it  is  the  best  proof  that  he  was  not  a  mere  dema- 
gogue lusting  for  political  power.  With  him  the  claims 
of  God  were  paramount.  He  was  continually  reminding 
the  citizens  that,  whatever  might  be  the  form  of  their 
government,  Christ  was  their  true  King.  In  this  way  he 
gave  effect  to  his  monarchical  preferences.  The  rule  of 
One  was  the  ideal  rule.  But  One  was  their  master,  even 
Christ :  the  only  question  that  remained  had  regard  to 
the  best  manner  of  securing  obedience  to  His  laws. 


193 


SAVONAROLA. 


It  was  on  the  third  Sunday  in  the  Advent  of  1494, 
in  his  sermons  on  the  prophet  Haggai,  that  Savonarola 
first  introduced  political  subjects  into  the  pulpit.  It 
seems  to  have  been  on  the  following  Sunday  that  he 
first  broached  the  notion  of  Christ  being  the  King 
of  Florence.  Addressing  himself  to  an  imaginary  au- 
ditory, that  might  prefer  a  monarchical  government,  he 
exclaimed,  — 

"  Well,  Florence,  God  is  willing  to  satisfy  thee,  and  to 
give  thee  a  Head,  a  King  to  govern  thee.  This  King  is 
Christ.  The  Lord  will  govern  thee  Himself,  if  thou  con- 
sent, O  Florence  !  Suffer  thyself  to  be  guided  by  Him. 
Do  not  act  as  did  the  Jews  when  they  required  a  king 
of  Samuel.  God  said  to  Samuel,  '  Hearken  unto  the 
voice  of  the  people  in  all  that  they  say  unto  thee  :  for  they 
have  not  rejected  thee,  but  they  have  rejected  Me,  that  I 
should  not  reign  over  them.'  ^  O  Florence,  do  not  imitate 
this  people !  Take  Christ  for  thy  Master,  and  remain  sub- 
ject to  His  law." 

It  was  a  thought  likely  to  gain  favor  with  the  peo- 
ple at  the  moment ;  and  when  the  Frate  exclaimed, 
"  Florence,  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  King  of  the  universe, 
hath  willed  to  become  thy  King  in  particular,  wilt 
thou  have  Him  for  thy  King  ? "  the  multitude,  as  with 
one  voice,  acclaimed  Jesus  Christ  as  King  of  Florence. 
So  eagerly  was  the  cry  taken  up  that  Savonarola  had 
to  restrain  the  too-abundant  expression  of  their  zeal. 
It  remained  for  long  the  rallying  cry  of  his  followers. 

The  Frate  was  not  ignorant  that  his  enemies  would 
charge  him  with  proclaiming  Christ  as  their  King,  in 
order  that  he  might  be  king  himself,  or  at  least  prime 
minister  in  the  new  kingdom. 

1  I  Sam.  viii.  7. 


REFORMATION  OF  MANNERS. 


193 


•  He  tells  them  he  knows  what  they  are  thinking,  — 
that  he  is  attempting  to  govern  under  this  pretext. 

*♦  Well,  then,"  he  exclaims,  "  what  have  you  given  me 
for  trying  to  govern  you  ?  Where  are  the  presents  that 
you  have  sent  me  ?  O  Frate,  you  say,  you  have  thou- 
sands of  ducats!  If  any  one  says  so,  he  does  not  speak 
the  truth  ;  I  have  nothing,  and  I  want  nothing.  It  is  you 
who  want  to  be  the  first  [referring  to  the  aristocratic  ob- 
structors of  the  proposed  constitution],  and  that  is  your 
reason  for  disliking  the  council.  He  who  wants  to  be  first 
seeks  to  overthrow  the  government  of  the  whole  people ; 
he  will  have  no  magistrates  nominated  without  his  permis- 
sion ;  he  must  be  consulted  about  everything,  even  to  the 
appointment  of  a  clergyman  to  Santa  Reparata.  For  my 
part,  I  endeavor  to  maintain  the  council.  .  .  .  Accuse  me 
no  more,  then,  of  wanting  to  be  minister  of  your  city. 
Christ  alone,  I  tell  you,  is  your  King ! " 

• 
We  have  already  seen  that    Savonarola  addressed 

himself  to  the  reformation  of  the  life  and  manners  of 
the  people  directly  after  the  expulsion  of  the  Medici ; 
but  he  never  forgot  the  supreme  importance  of  this 
subject,  and  his  sermons  never  became  mere  political 
addresses.  The  state  of  morality  in  Florence  was,  in 
truth,  very  degraded.  Enough  has  been  said  of  the 
moral  condition  of  Europe  and  of  Italy  at  this  period ; 
and  Florence,  with  its  wealth  and  luxury,  with  its  liter- 
ary scepticism  and  its  political  subserviency  and  corrup- 
tion, was  to  the  full  as  bad  as  its  worst  neighbors.  The 
Frate  told  the  people  that  they  spent  their  life  in  revel- 
ling and  drunkenness  and  in  all  kinds  of  debauchery. 
"  Your  life,"  he  said,  "  is  the  life  of  swine."  And  the 
historians  of  the  period  give  no  different  account  of 
their  condition.      They  were  madly  addicted  to  gam- 

13 


194 


SAVONAROLA, 


I! 


bling  and  to  the  most  degrading  vices.  They  were 
indecent  in  their  attire,  —  a  sure  sign  of  the  degener- 
acy of  their  morals,  —  and  vices  and  crimes  prevailed 
widely  which  are  not  fit  even  to  be  named  among  us. 
It  is  to  be  feared  that  these  were  not  discouraged,  —  that 
they  were  even  promoted,  —  by  the  friends  of  the 
classical  Renaissance. 

Savonarola  was  never  weary  of  warning  the  citizens 
—  it  was,  indeed,  the  great  work  of  his  life  to  bear 
witness  —  that  they  could  have  no  blessing  from  God, 
no  abiding  prosperity,  unless  they  were  converted  from 
their  sins.  Whatever  fostered  vice  and  ungodliness, 
whatever  hindered  the  acknowledgment  of  truth  and 
God  among  them,  —  against  this  he  warred,  through 
his  whole  ministry,  through  his  whole  life,  a  continuous, 
unending  warfare.  It  has  been  alleged  that  he  carried 
his  opposition  to  the  borders  of  fanaticism  when  he 
endeavored  to  suppress  all  gambling,  when  he  sought 
to  destroy  the  writings  *  of  the  classics  and  of  his  own 
countrymen,  which  he  considered  to  be  the  fountains 
of  the  evils  which  prevailed  so  widely  in  the  city. 

But  he  was  not  contented  with  urging  upon  the  people 
to  abandon  those  habits  which  were  ruining  the  city ; 
he  entreated  the  magistrates  to  take  the  work  in  hand. 


"Magistrates,"  he  says,  "it  is  to  you  that  I  address 
myself.  Put  down  these  vices,  destroy  these  sins,  punish 
this  horrid  passion  which  is  against  nature.  And  not 
merely  by  a  private  fine,  but  in  public,  that  all  Italy  may 
know  it.  .  .  .  Expose  all  the  courtesans  in  a  public  place, 
and  send  them  off  to  the  sound  of  trumpets.  But  you 
say,  O  father !  there  are  so  many  of  them  that  this  would 
be  to  upset  the  whole  city.     Well,  then,  begin  with  one, 

1  We  shall  have  to  speak  of  this  again. 


Hi 


REFORSrATIOS  OF  MANNERS. 


'95 


then  go  on  to  the  rest;  and  If  you  cannot  give  them  chas- 
tity, you  can  at  least  teach  them  decency.  Punish  gam- 
blers; for,  be  well  assured,  gambling  still  goes  on.  Give 
orders,  signers,  that  no  one  shall  play  in  the  streeti  at 
great  games  or  small.  .  .  .  Have  the  tongues  of  blas- 
phemers pierced.  Saint  Louis,  king  of  France,  had  the 
lips  of  a  blasphemer  cauterized,  and  said :  '  I  should  be 
happy  to  have  ^s  much  done  to  myself  if  I  could  at  sui  h 
a  price  have  my  kingdom  cleared  of  such  offenders.'  Put 
down  dancing  too,  for  this  is  not  a  time  to  dance.  Pro- 
hibit balls  in  town  and  country." 

Then  he  went  further,  and  recommended  the  ap- 
pointment of  spies  to  discover  whether  these  orders 
were  carried  out.  He  found  that  the  places  of  public 
entertainment  were  not  closed  at  the  appointed  hour ; 
that  the  shops  were  kept  open  on  holy  days ;  and  he 
insisted  that  they  should  be  closed,  with  the  exception 
of  those  which  were  open  for  the  sale  of  medicines. 

If  the  preacher  had  but  small  success  with  the  mag- 
istrates, it  was  different  among  the  people  at  large,  and 
especially  with  those  who  crowded  the  cathedral  when 
he  preached.  These,  if  they  became  increasingly  a 
party  only  of  the  whole  inhabitants  of  the  city,  became 
also  increasingly  zealous  for  the  objects  which  the  Frate 
was  endeavoring  to  promote.  He  seems  at  this  time 
to  have  produced  astonishing  effects  by  his  preaching. 
His  hearers  were  influenced  by  the  most  powerful 
emotions  as  they  listened  to  his  words.  The  short-hand 
writer  who  reports  these  sermons  sometimes  had  to 
cease  writing.  He  leaves  out  portions  of  them,  and 
explains  that  he  was  unable  to  go  on  for  weeping. 
Men  and  women  as  they  left  the  church  tore  off  their 
ornaments  and  gave  them  as  an  offering  to  God,  or 
took  them  to  the  magistrates  for  the  use  of  the  State. 


196 


SAVONAROLA, 


( \ 


Savonarola  was  oftentimes  as  powerfully  moved  as 
were  his  hearers.  Sometimes  after  a  sermon  he  was 
utterly  prostrate,  and  forced  to  remain  quiet  and  in 
seclusion.  At  the  end  of  the  Advent  of  1494  he 
seemed  inclined  for  a  season  to  abstain  from  preaching ; 
but  the  fire  kept  burning  within  him,  as  he  told  the 
people,  and  he  was  constrained  to  speak.  In  January 
he  is  again  in  the  pulpit,  preaching  sermons  on  the 
Psalms,  which  were  continued  on  holy  days  up  to  the 
beginning  of  Lent. 

In  one  of  these  sermons,  preached  on  the  13th  of 
January,  he  gives  a  summary  of  his  teaching  on  the 
reformation  of  the  Church.  It  was  evidently  prepared 
with  peculiar  care,  and  was  regarded  as  an  important 
testimony  as  to  the  aims  of  the  preacher ;  and  it  was 
printed  immediately  afterwards  and  circulated  widely 
in  Florence  and  elsewhere.^  "  Our  intention  this 
morning,"  he  begins,  "  is  to  repeat  all  that  we  have 
said  and  preached  at  Florence  these  past  years  about 
the  renovation  of  the  Church ;  all  which  will  soon  be 
accomplished."  This,  he  says,  he  will  declare  over 
again  for  the  confirmation  of  those  who  have  believed, 
and  for  the  confusion  of  those  who  will  not  believe  or 
repent. 

After  some  remarks  on  the  creature,  on  time  and 
eternity,  he  says  that  God  alone,  and  not  even  angels, 
can  know  the   future ;  and  "  He  communicates   this 

^  I  possess  an  original  copy  of  this  sermon.  No  reporter's 
name  is  mentioned,  as  is  the  case  with  another  sermon  published 
in  the  same  manner ;  so  that  it  may  have  been  published  by 
Savonarola  himself.  The  title  is :  Predica  di  Frate  Hieronimo 
da  Ferrara  della  renovatione  della  chiesa  facta  in  Sancta  Maria 
del  fiore  in  Firenze,  adi.  xiii.  di  Gennaio.  MCCCCLXXXXiiiii. 
(1495,  N.S.) 


i  ■ 


REFORMATION  OP  MANNERS. 


197 


knowledge  to  whom  He  pleases,  and  to  what  extent  and 
at  what  time  He  wills. "  Then  he  denounces  the  false- 
ness of  astrology,  which  pretends  to  have  the  knowledge 
of  future  events  which  are  contingent.  "  Such  pre- 
tensions," he  says,  "  are  equally  opposed  to  philosophy 
and  to  faith.  Prophets,"  he  goes  on,  "  have  light  from 
God ;  and  He  gives  it  to  whom  He  will.  And  now 
you  will  say,  *  Frate,  whence  have  you  learned  the  tilings 
which  you  have  predicted  for  the  last  four  years  ? ' " 
At  first,  he  says,  they  are  not  ready  to  receive  the 
explanation  ;  but  at  least  they  know  he  is  not  a  mad- 
man, and  that  he  does  not  excite  himself  without  a 
reason.  And  he  adds  that  a  great  part  of  the  things 
which  he  predicted  have  already  come  to  pass. 

"  And  I  tell  you  *  that  the  rest  will  be  verified,  and  not 
an  iota  of  it  will  fail ;  and  I  am  more  certain  of  it  than  you 
are  that  two  and  two  make  four,  more  than  I  am  certain 
that  I  touch  this  wood  of  this  pulpit,  because  that  light  is 
more  certain  than  the  sense  of  touch.  But  I  want  you  to 
know  that  this  light  does  not  justify  men.  Balaam  was  a 
prophet,  and  yet  he  was  a  sinner  and  a  wicked  man,  al- 
though he  had  this  light  of  prophecy.  But  I  tell  you,  O 
Florence,  that  this  light  was  given  me  for  thee,  and  not  for 
myself  ;  for  this  light  does  not  make  a  man  acceptable  to 
God.  And  I  wish  you  to  know  that  I  began  to  see  these 
things  more  than  fifteen  years  ago,  perhaps  twenty.  But 
I  began  to  speak  of  them  ten  years  ago.  And  first  at 
Brescia,  when  I  preached  there,  I  began  to  say  something. 
Then  God  permitted  that  I  should  come  to  Florence, 
which  is  the  light  of  Italy,  that  you  mijjht  spread  the 
knowledge  to  all  the  other  cities  of  Italy.  But  thou, 
Florence,  hast  heard  with  thine  ears  not  me,  but  God. 

1  Villari,  who  gives  a  careful  analysis  of  this  sermon,  has 
followed  the  Latin  translation. 


TT 


if 


'I 

h 


19$ 


SAVONAROLA. 


The  rest  of  Italy  has  heard  of  this  only  from  the  report  of 
others  ;  and  therefore  thou,  Florence,  wilt  have  no  excuse 
if  thou  repent  not.  Believe  me,  Florence,  it  is  not  I,  it  is 
God  who  says  these  things." 

He  then  proceeds  to  repeat  the  reasons,  such  as  he 

« 

had  often  insisted  upon  before,  "  which  demonstrate  and 
prove  the  renovation  of  the  Church."  Some  of  them 
were  probable,  and  might  be  contradicted ;  some  de- 
monstrative, which  could  not  be  contradicted,  because 
they  were  founded  on  Holy  Scripture.  He  enumerates 
ten  reasons,  beginning  with  the  "  pollution  of  the  pre- 
lates," saying  that  a  good  head  gave  promise  of  a  good 
body;  but  when  the  head  was  evil,  the  body  was  so 
also.  The  second  was  the  removal  of  the  good  and 
righteous,  by  which  God  declared  that  He  was  bringing 
a  scourge  upon  a  iation.  The  third  was  the  exclusion 
of  the  righteous  by  those  in  power.  The  fourth  vas 
the  desire  of  the  righteous.  Then  he  mentions  the 
obstinacy  of  sinners,  the  multitude  of  sinners.  "  See," 
he  says,  '*  if  Rome  is  full  of  pride,  of  luxury  and  avarice 
and  simony."  Then  he  speaks  of  the  insolence  of  the 
great,  the  want  of  faith,  the  neglect  of  public  worship ; 
and  finally,  the  universal  opinion.  Every  one  was 
expecting  scourging  and  tribulations ;  and  every  one 
thought  it  just  that  the  punishment  of  so  great  iniquities 
should  come.  "  The  Abbot  Joachino  and  many  others 
preach  and  announce  that  a  great  scourge  is  to  come  in 
this  time.  These,"  he  adds,  "  are  the  reasons  for  which 
I  have  preached  the  renovation  of  the  Church." 

After  illustrating  his  theme  by  a  figurative  interpreta- 
tion of  Scripture,  he  proceeds  to  speak  of  the  signs  by 
which  we  may  know  of  the  approach  of  these  events. 
There  are  two,  he  says.     First,  exterior  signs ;  and  he 


REFORMATION  OF  MANNERS. 


199 


confesses  that  he  was  mistaken  in  thinking  the  death  of 
Pope  Innocent  one  of  these  signs,  —  evidently  meaning 
that  the  accession  of  Alexander  VI.  could  hardly  be  the 
beginning  of  the  renovation  of  the  Church.  Then  there 
is  a  second  class  of  signs,  —  that  given  to  the  imagination  ; 
by  which  he  indicates  visions  and  the  like. 

"  I  saw  by  imagination,"  he  says,  "a  black  cross  over 
Babylon,  which  is  Rome,  on  which  cross  was  written  the 
wrath  of  God ;  "  and  then  he  refers  to  the  vision  of 
swords  and  weapons  of  war  falling  to  the  ground,  of 
which  we  have  heard.  And  there  was  another  cross 
of  gold,  on  which  was  written  the  mercy  of  God.  And 
he  saw  a  sword  hanging  over  Italy  and  descending  upon 
it ;  and  this  sword,  he  said,  represented  the  king  of 
France,  who  was  now  showing  himself  to  all  Italy.  And 
then  he  reminds  them  of  all  the  words  of  v/arning 
which  he  had  spoken,  and  how  many  of  them  had  been 
verified. 


"  Believe  me,  then,  Florence,"  he  exclaims ;  "  and  thou 
oughtest  to  believe  me,  because  of  that  which  I  have  said. 
Thou  hast  not  seen  one  iota  fail  until  now ;  and  for  the 
future  thou  wilt  see  nothing  fail.  I  predicted,  several  years 
before,  the  death  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  the  death  of  Pope 
Innocent,  also  that  which  has  now  happened  at  Florence, 
—  the  change  in  the  State.  I  have  not  said  all  these  things 
publicly ;  but  I  have  said  them  to  those  who  are  here  at 
this  sermon,  and  I  have  the  witnesses  here,  O  Florence  ! 
And  this  light  was  not  given  to  me  for  myself,  or  for  my 
merit ;  but  for  thee,  O  Florence,  it  has  been  given  to  me. 
And  I  have  said  these  things  to  thee  this  morning  thus 
openly,  —  this  morning  inspired  by  God  that  I  should  say 
them  to  thee,  so  that  thou  mightest  know  the  whole,  and 
that  thou  mightest  have  no  excuse  when  the  scourge  shall 
come,  and  shouldst  not  be  able  to  say,  *  I  did  not  know  it.' 


200 


SAVONAROLA. 


I   i  » 


ill 


I  could  not  say  it  more  clearly  to  thee.    Yet  I  know  that 
this  morning  I  shall  be  thought  a  madman."  '  > 

In  conclusion  he  says :  — 

"  I  warn  you  that  already  Italy  is  near  the  beginning  of 
her  tribulations.  O  Italy,  O  princes  of  Italy,  O  prelates 
of  the  Church,  the  wrath  of  God  is  upon  you  !  and  you  have 
no  remedy  unless  you  repent.  O  Italy,  O  Florence,  for 
thy  sins  these  trials  are  coming  upon  thee  !  Repent^hile 
the  sword  is  yet  unsheathed,  while  it  is  not  yet  stained  with 
blood.  The  conclusion  is  this  :  I  have  told  thee  all  these 
things,  with  reasons  divine  and  human,  with  moderation, 
restraining  my  language.  I  have  besought  thee.  I  cannot 
command  thee,  because  I  am  not  thy  master,  but  thy  father. 
Do  thou  act,  O  Florence  !  I  can  only  pray  that  God  may 
enlighten  thee." 

Already  the  enemies  of  the  Frate  were  becoming 
alarmed  at  the  influence  of  his  words,  and  tried  to  have 
him  sent  to  preach  elsewhere.  At  first  Pope  Alexander 
gave  an  order  to  this  effect ;  but  afterwards  recalled  it, 
so  that  Savonarola  prepared  to  preach  the  sermons  in 
Lent.  He  chose  as  his  subject  the  Book  of  Job.  Al- 
though these  sermons  have  come  down  to  us  in  a  very 
imperfect  condition,  we  can  see  that  he  abstained  as 
much  as  possible  from  allusions  to  politics,  and  devoted 
his  attention  to  those  matters  which  he  had  most  at 
heart,  —  the  reformation  of  the  people,  holy  living,  the 
union  and  harmony  of  the  citizens.  Even  when  he 
touches  upon  liberty,  it  is  with  a  moral  rather  than  a 
political  bearing. 

"The  true,  the  only  liberty,"  he  says,  "consists  in  willing 
that  which  is  good.  The  good  religious  may  seem  to  you 
not  to  be  free,  because  he  has  subjected  his  will  to  that  of 
another;  but  he  has  greater  liberty  than  those  who  are  in 


REFORMATION  OP  MANNERS. 


9fm 


the  world,  because  it  is  his  rule  to  do  that  which  others 
command.  What  liberty  is  there  where  men  are  ruled  by 
the  passions  ?  And  now  to  our  point.  Florence,  wilt  thou 
have  liberty  ?  Citizens,  will  ye  be  free  ?  First  love  God, 
love  your  neighbor,  love  one  another,  love  the  common 
good.  If  you  have  this  love  and  this  union  among  your- 
selves, you  will  have  true  liberty." 

In  commending  to  the  people  the  practice  of  piety, 
Savonarola  made  great  use  of  the  visions  which  he  had 
seen,  as  he  did  when  warning  them  of  the  coming 
scourge  and  predicting  the  renovation  of  the  Church. 
We  do  not  propose  to  discuss  either  the  visions  or  the 
gift  of  prophecy  which  Savonarola  appeared  sometimes 
to  claim,  sometimes  to  disown.  With  regard  to  this 
apparent  contradiction  in  his  professions  and  claims,  the 
solution  seems  easier  than  has  generally  been  perceived. 
Savonarola  evidently  employed  the  phrase  that  he  was 
"  no  prophet,"  nor  "  prophet's  son,"  very  much  in  the 
sense  used  by  the  prophet  Amos.  Probably  he  went 
farther,  and  meant  that  he  had  no  distinct  prophetic 
mission,  —  that  he  was  not  especially  appointed  to  do  the 
work  of  a  prophet,  like  Saint  John  Baptist,  for  example. 
But  it  is  quite  clear  that  he  laid  claim  to  prophetic  light. 
He  constantly  asserted  that  God  had  shown  him  the 
future  ;  and  it  would  be  utterly  absurd  to  question  the  sin- 
cerity of  his  pretensions.  It  will  hardly  be  denied  either 
that  Savonarola  did,  in  the  most  remarkable  manner, 
forecast  the  future,  —  sometimes,  it  is  true,  by  the  force 
of  his  genius  and  by  his  penetrating  insight  into  the 
imaginations  of  man's  heart  and  into  the  state  of  the 
world  in  his  own  days ;  sometimes,  also,  in  a  manner 
which  cannot  be  explained  on  these  principles.  It  is 
useless  to  discuss  the  question  whether  these  supposed 


M 


,  yr^ 


; 


I 


\k 


202 


SAVONAROLA. 


revelations  were  happy  guesses  or  strange  coincidences, 
or  whether  God  did  actually  make  known  to  his  servant 
some  of  those  things  which  were  coming  upon  the  earth. 
How  far  men  may  be,  in  an  exalted  spiritual  condition, 
made  aware  of  the  secrets  of  the  invisible  world,  we 
cannot  tell.  Those  who  think  most  deeply  on  such 
questions  will  probably  be  the  most  backward  to  pro- 
nounce dogmatically  on  the  subject.  What  the  boundary 
line  may  be  which  separates  a  state  of  spiritual  elevation 
from  a  state  of  ecstasy,  which  divides  our  ordinary  ex- 
perience of  heavenly  things  from  a  direct  intuition  of  the 
spiritual  world,  no  wise  man  will  attempt  to  determine. 
Of  one  thing  we  have  no  doubt,  —  that  is,  of  the  absolute 
sincerity  of  Savonarola,  and,  to  use  his  own  language, 
we  know  that  he  was  not  a  madman.  Beyond  this  we 
cannot  pronounce,  because  we  do  not  know. 

One  of  the  most  curious  instances  of  his  dealing  with 
the  invisible  was  his  offer  to  act  on  behalf  of  his  hear- 
ers as  an  ambassador  to  Jesus  Christ  and  to  the  Blessed 
Virgin.  In  the  sermons  of  Lent,  1495,  ^^  relates  con- 
versations which  he  had  with  our  Lord  when  engaged 
in  this  embassy.  These  communications  he  employs 
to  enforce  his  teachings  on  the  subject  of  unity.  "  Ob- 
serve all  nature,"  he  represents  our  Lord  as  saying, 
"  and  thou  wilt  observe  that  every  creature  desires  its 
own  unity ;  every  being  seeks  this,  except  the  people 
of  Florence,  which  wishes  only  for  separation  and 
division." 

Speaking  on  the  subject  of  good  living,  he  again 
represents  our  Lord  as  saying, — 

"  Good  is,  of  its  own  nature,  diffusive  ;  and  therefore 
I,  who  am  the  Supreme  Good,  diffuse  Myself  in  creation, 
and  I  have  given  being  to  all  creatures,  so  that  every  good 


/ 


^a 


REFORMATION  IN  MANNERS. 


203 


which  is  in  them  is  a  participation  of  My  goodness.  For 
this  I  came  down  among  men,  was  made  man,  and  died 
upon  the  cross.  This,  then,  will  be  the  sign  by  which  it 
will  be  known  who  is  good.  When  any  one  diffuses  his 
goodness  among  others,  and  makes  them  partakers  of  that 
good  which  he  has  in  himself,  then  he  is  truly  good  and 
participates  in  My  goodness.  .  .  .  Christian  life,"  he  goes 
on,  "does  not  consist  in  ceremonies,  but  in  being  good; 
and  he  who  is  good  cannot  refrain  from  showing  his  good- 
ness. .  .  .  And  in  this  consists  the  Christian  religioDi 
which  is  founded  in  love  and  charity." 

Those  who  read  such  reports  of  these  sermons  as 
have  been  preserved  to  us  will  form  but  a  slight  notion 
of  the  power  which  was  contained  in  them,  or  the 
effects  which  they  produced.  Savonarola  spoke  with 
all  the  energy  of  his  nature,  soul  and  heart  going  forth 
in  the  vehemence  of  his  utterances,  and  every  power 
of  body  and  mind  tasked  to  the  uttermost.  He  felt 
that  he  was  a  witness  for  God  in  the  midst  of  a  world 
which  was  lying  in  wickedness.  He  knew  that  he  was 
the  chief  guide  of  the  deliberations  of  the  citizens  in 
matters  which  might  affect  the  well-being  of  Florence 
for  many  years  to  come.  He  was  living  in  times  of 
constant  change  and  perplexity,  when  each  day  was 
bringing  forth  new  problems  which  were  clamoring  for 
solution.  He  was  aware  that  there  were  parties  in  the 
State  eager  to  seize  every  opportunity  which  might 
offer  itself  in  order  to  secure  the  success  of  their  own 
selfish  designs  and  frustrate  his  benevolent  efforts  for 
the  common  good.  Yet  none  of  these  things  moved 
him.  Exhausted  in  body  and  mind,  he  sought  for 
momentary  repose,  only  to  return  with  fresh  energy 
to  the  conflict.     From  the  pulpit  of  Santa  Maria  del 


li 


804 


SAVONAKOLA. 


i  I' 


y 


Fiore  he  hurled  forth  his  thunderbolts  against  every 
form  of  iniquity,  secure  in  the  consciousness  of  his 
own  integrity,  which  he  saw  reflected  in  the  convictions 
of  his  hearers.  When  he  concluded  his  course  of  ser- 
mons on  Easter  Day,  the  reporter  could  not  go  on  to 
the  end.  He  was  forced  to  add :  "  Such  sorrow  and 
weeping  came  upon  me  that  I  could  go  no  farther." 
We  may  judge  what  was  felt  by  those  whose  whole  at- 
tention was  fastened  upon  the  preacher,  his  words,  his 
tones,  his  gestures. 

But  it  was  not  only  in  the  momentary  impression 
produced  by  his  sermons  that  their  effect  was  perceived. 
The  aspect  of  the  whole  city  seemed  to  be  changed. 
The  luxuries  and  indecent  costumes  which  he  had  so 
indignantly  denounced  disappeared  from  the  streets  and 
the  homes  of  Florence.  Hymns  were  heard  every- 
where in  place  of  the  Carnival  songs  which  had  for- 
merly been  popular.  Workmen  devoted  their  leisure 
hours  to  reading  the  Bible  and  religious  books.  The 
neglect  of  public  worship,  which  he  had  mentioned  as 
one  of  the  signs  of  the  approaching  scourge,  no  longer 
existed.  The  churches  were  crowded.  Prayer  and 
almsgiving  seemed  to  be  universal.  Men  of  business 
were  led  to  restore  sums  of  money  which  they  had 
unjustly  acquired.  Abstinence  was  practised  to  such 
an  extent  that  it  was  thought  disgraceful  to  sell  meat 
on  days  of  fasting.  Schools  and  shops  were  closed 
during  the  time  of  preaching. 

The  effects  of  this  spreading  religious  enthusiasm 
were  seen  in  the  convent  of  which  Savonarola  was  the 
head.  St.  Mark's  could  no  longer  contain  the  can- 
didates for  admission  into  the  fraternity.  From  fifty 
the  numbers  had  risen  to  more  than  two  hundred.     It 


REFORMATION  OP  MANNERS. 


205 


became  necessary  to  add  a  neighboring  building  to  the 
convent.  Young  men  of  the  best  families  in  Florence 
fled  from  the  world  and  took  refuge  in  St.  Mark's,  be- 
sides men  of  mature  age,  distinguished  in  literature, 
in  science,  and  in  the  administration  of  public  affairs. 
It  was  at  this  time  that  Savonarola  was  joined  by  a 
young  convert  named  Bettuccio,  afterwards  known  as 
Fr^  Benedetto,  who  was  in  after  years  to  become  the 
biographer  of  his  superior.^  He  gives  an  account  of  his 
reception  into  the  Dominican  order  which  is  interest- 
ing as  illustrating  Savonarola's  manner  of  dealing  with 
such  cases.  The  father  of  Bettuccio  was  a  goldsmith. 
He  was  himself  a  miniature-painter  in  the  flower  of  his 
youth,  and  addicted  to  all  the  prevailing  pleasures  and 
amusements  of  his  age  and  time.  When  he  heard  of 
the  fame  of  the  Frate,  he  at  first  refused  to  go  with  the 
multitude  that  crowded  around  the  cathedral  pulpit. 
On  one  occasion  a  noble  lady  spoke  to  him  with  enthu- 
siasm of  the  preaching  of  Savonarola,  which  at  first  only 
excited  his  derision.  At  last  he  was  induced  to  go  to 
the  church  ;  but  he  was  inclined  to  leave  at  once  when 
he  marked  the  astonishment  caused  by  his  unexpected 
presence  in  the  congregation.  When  the  preacher  be- 
gan to  speak  he  was  unable  to  withdraw  his  eyes  from 
his  countenance.  The  word  of  God  spoken  by  the 
Frate  took  possession  of  him ;  and  then,  he  says,  he 
knew  thai  he  was  "more  dead  than  alive." 

When  the  young  painter  left  the  church  he  went 
away  by  himself  to  think  over  what  he  had  heard.  He 
returned  to  his  home  a  changed  man.  Old  pleasures 
and  habits  and  associates  were  at  once  forsaken.     It 

1  We  have  heard  of  him  as  the  author  of  the  Cedrus  Libani 
and  the  Volnera  Diligentis. 


t  !1 
i 


! 


206 


SAVONAROLA. 


M! 


was  no  easy  matter  for  such  a  one  to  shake  off  his  old 
friends.  They  jested  at  him,  treating  his  new  feelings 
as  a  passing  frenzy  which  could  not  endure.  But  he 
persevered.  At  first  he  did  not  venture  into  the  awful 
presence  of  the  preacher  who  had  so  deeply  moved 
him ;  but  he  was  constantly  to  be  seen  at  the  public 
worship  of  St.  Mark's.  At  last  he  went  and  cast  him- 
self at  the  feet  of  Savonarola ;  but  even  then  he  could 
hardly  utter  what  was  filling  his  heart  and  mind.  He 
told  him,  however,  that  he  wished  to  enter  the  convent. 
Savonarola  did  not  fail  to  speak  to  him  of  the  danger 
of  a  hasty  decision,  of  the  trials  and  difficulties  of  a 
religious  life,  and  advised  him  to  think  well  of  the  mat- 
ter, and  to  know  more  perfectly  his  real  mind  before 
he  took  such  a  step.  He  counselled  him  also  to  live 
first  a  Christian  life  in  the  world  before  he  entered  the 
convent.  The  coinsel,  he  tells  us,  was  not  unneeded. 
He  had  ample  experience  of  the  conflict  involved  in 
passing  from  the  bondage  of  the  world  to  the  service 
of  God  during  that  period  of  probation.  He  fell,  he 
repented,  he  showed  his  sincerity  by  his  devotion,  he 
conquered  his  besetting  sins;  and  then  he  returned 
and  asked  to  be  received  into  the  brotherhood.  But 
still  Savonarola  delayed  to  grant  the  boon.  He  was 
appointed  to  assist  the  sick  and  to  bury  the  dead,  while 
he  received  frequent  instructions  on  the  monastic  life. 
At  last,  on  the  7th  of  November,  1495,  he  assumed 
the  habit,  and  on  the  13th  of  November  in  the  follow- 
ing year  he  took  the  vows  under  the  name  of  Fr^  Bene- 
detto. It  was  an  evident  proof  that  the  numbers  of  the 
brethren  of  St.  Mark's  had  not  been  swelled  by  the 
inconsiderate  admission  of  all  applicants.  They  were 
not  all  destined  to  prove  faithful  to  their  great  superior ; 


REFORMATION  OP  MANNERS. 


207 


but  it  was  through  no  fault  of  his  that  any  of  them 
entered  upon  a  profession  which  they  had  not  suffi- 
cient devotion  to  sustain. 

It  was  not  wonderful  if  Savonarola  dreamed  of  a 
return  to  those  earlier  and  better  days  for  which  he 
had  so  often  longed,  and  of  which  he  so  frequently 
spoke.  If  he  proposed  to  his  disciples  a  standard  of  life 
which  it  was,  humanly  speaking,  impossible  to  main- 
tain, he  had  not  only  his  own  example  to  show,  but 
the  lives  of  many  whom  he  had  drawn  from  the  service 
of  sin.  For  the  time  at  least,  it  seemed  as  though  the 
success  of  the  political  revolution  which  he  had  guided 
with  such  ability  was  to  be  equalled  by  the  reformation 
of  life  and  manners  which  had  been  wrought  by  his 
preaching  and  his  example. 


I.     !] 


208 


SAVONAROLA, 


CHAPTER  XII. 


DIVISIONS. 


It  has  been  remarked  that  the  highest  order  of  mind 
has  seldom  been  destitute  of  a  sense  of  humor ;  and  the 
statement  has  been  ilhistrated  by  some  of  the  greatest 
names  recorded  in  history,  ranging  from  Socrates  to 
Shakespeare,  and  appearing  in  every  age  of  the  world. 
It  is,  however,  equally  true  that  the  deepest  thinkers 
and  the  most  earnest  workers  have  had  some  touch  of 
that  melancholic  temperament  which  leads  men  to  take 
desponding  views  of  human  life  and  to  regard  the  most 
brilliant  success  with  a  feeling  of  distrust.     When  men 
of  a  less  powerful  build  have  been  intoxicated  with  the 
triumph  of  the  moment,  the  man  of  most  profound  and » 
comprehensive  thought  has  already  begun  to  discern  the 
signs  of  incompleteness  and  the  approach  of  reverses 
and  of  failure. 
j     Thus  it  was  with  Girolamo  Savonarola  in  the  midst  of 
successes  which  have  seldom,  perhaps  never,  been  at- 
tained in  the  civil  reform  of  a  State  by  one  whose  days 
had  been  spent  in  retirement  and  in  preaching.     While 
Florence  was  rejoicing  in  her  newly  restored  liberty  and 
in  her  well-ordered  constitution,  and  lauding  to  the  skies 
the  man  by  whose  exertions  they  had  been  secured,  his 
mind,  wearied  by  the  burden  it  had  borne,  and  discern- 
ing the  presence  of  dangerous  elements  in  the  State,  was 


DIVISIONS, 


209 


oppressed  by  a  profound  sadness,  mingled  with  the  most 
gloomy  apprehensions.  "  I  am  weary,  O  Florence,"  he 
exclaims  at  this  time,  "with  four  years  of  continual 
preaching,  in  which  I  have  done  nothing  but  labor  for 
thee  !  Besides,  I  have  been  afflicted  by  the  continual 
remembrance  of  the  scourge  which  I  have  seen  approach- 
ing, and  the  fear  lest  it  should  endanger  thy  safety.  For 
this  cause  I  have  made  continual  prayers  on  thy  behalf 
to  the  Lord."  He  had  never  promised  that  the  people 
should  continue  to  enjoy  their  new-found  prosperity  and 
happiness  but  on  condition  of  their  repentence ;  and 
he  could  not  shut  his  eyes  to  the  existence  of  evils 
of  all  kinds  which  abounded  among  the  people.  More 
particularly  he  must  have  seen,  in  the  discussion  of  the 
"  Law  of  the  Six  Beans,"  that  there  were  many  of  the 
upper  class  who  were  not  disposed  frankly  to  accept 
the  guarantees  which  he  was  endeavoring  to  provide 
for  the  continuance  of  a  rational  liberty,  and  who  were 
ready  to  use  the  ignorance  and  inexperience  of  the 
multitude  as  a  means  of  retaining  the  real  power  of 
government  in  their  own  hands. 

He  did  not  conceal  from  himself  that  his  own  posi- 
tion was  one  of  imminent  danger,  nor  did  he  hesitate  to 
express  these  convictions  in  his  public  preaching.  One 
of  the  most  touching  references  to  his  position  was  given 
under  the  form  of  a  parable.  "  A  young  man,"  he  said, 
in  a  sermon  belonging  to  the  course  which  he  preached 
on  the  prophet  Haggai,  ^  — 

"  A  young  man,  leaving  his  home,  launched  forth  into 
the  sea  to  fish ;  and  the  master  of  the  ship  took  him  out 
into  the  high  seas,  where  there  was  no  harbor  to  be  seen  ; 
80  that  the  youth  began  loudly  to  bewail  himself.     O  Flo- 

1  Advent,  1494. 
14 


"!i  r 


310 


SAVONAROLA. 


rence,  that  youth  who  thus  laments  is  In  this  pulpit!  I 
was  led  from  my  home  to  the  harbor  of  the  religious  life, 
when  I  entered  the  age  of  twenty-three  years,  solely  to 
obtain  liberty  and  peace,  —  two  things  which  I  loved  above 
everything  else.  But  there  I  beheld  the  waters  of  this 
world,  and  I  began  to  preach  in  the  hope  of  winning  souls ; 
and  while  there  I  found  pleasure,  the  Lord  brought  me 
down  into  the  sea,  and  sent  me  forth  into  the  high  seas, 
where  I  am  now,  and  whence  I  no  longer  behold  the  harbor. 
In  all  directions  there  are  difficulties.  Before  my  eyes  I  see 
tribulation  and  tempests  appearing  ;  behind  me  the  harbor 
is  lost,  and  the  wind  drives  me  forth  into  the  deep.  On  the 
right  hand  are  the  elect  who  are  asking  for  aid ;  on  the  left, 
evil  spirits  and  evil  men  who  molest  and  trouble  us ;  above 
I  behold  Eternal  Virtue,  and  hope  urges  me  on ;  beneath  is 
hell,  which,  as  a  man,  I  must  fear,  because  without  the  help 
of  God  I  should  certainly  fall.  O  Lord,  whither  hast  Thou 
led  me?  From  my  desire  to  save  souls  for  Thee,  I  am 
come  into  a  place  from  which  I  can  no  longer  return  to  my 
rest.  Why  hast  Thou  made  me  'a  man  of  strife  and  a  man 
of  contention  to  the  whole  earth  ?'  I  was  free,  and  now  I 
am  the  servant  of  all.  I  see  in  all  directions  war  and  dis- 
cord  coming  upon  me.  You,  at  least,  my  friends,  the  chosen 
of  God,  for  whom  I  afflict  myself  day  and  night,  do  you 
have  pity  upon  me.  Give  me  flowers,  as  ♦he  canticle  says, 
•for  I  am  sick  of  love.'  The  flowers  that  I  ask  for  are  good 
works  ;  and  I  desire  nothing  else  of  you  but  that  you  please 
God  and  save  your  souls." 

Throughout  the  whole  time  of  which  we  have  spoken 
in  the  two  previous  chapters,  he  was  sensible  of  the 
danger  to  which  he  was  exposed.  Speaking  of  the 
reward  of  heaven  and  that  of  earth,  he  asks,  — 

"  But  what,  O  Lord,  shall  be  the  reward  granted  in  the 
other  life  to  him  who  is  victorious  in  battle  ?  A  thing  which 
the  eye  cannot  see,  which  the  ear  cannot  hear,  —  eternal 


i 
if 


DIVISIONS. 


211 


blessedness.  And  what  the  reward  granted  in  this  life? 
'Tlie  servant  shall  not  be  greater  than  his  master,'  answers 
the  Lord.  '  Thou  knowest  that  after  preaching  I  was  cruci- 
fied ;  so  martyrdom  will  befall  thee  also.'  O  Lord,  Lord, 
grant  me,  I  pray  Thee,  this  martyrdom,  and  make  me  ready 
to  die  for  Thee,  as  Thou  hast  died  for  me !  Already  tlie 
knife  is  sliarpened  for  me.  But  the  Lord  tells  me,  '  VV.iit 
yet  for  a  little  while,  so  that  the  things  may  come  whiih 
have  to  follow ;  and  then  thou  wilt  use  that  strength  of 
mind  which  shall  be  given  thee.' 


1 »» 


It  was  certainly  very  remarkable  that  in  these  days, 
in  which  he  was  the  ruling  mind  of  Florence,  when 
everything  was  being  ordered  in  the  State  according  to 
his  will,  and  the  moral  change  already  described  was 
being  brougiit  about,  he  should  have  such  presentiments 
with  regard  to  his  own  future  history.  These  forebod- 
ings, however,  can  hardly  be  reckoned  among  the  evi- 
dences of  his  possession  of  prophetic  light.  He  knew 
too  well  what  was  in  man,  —  he  knew  too  well  the  state 
of  men's  minds  in  Florence,  —  to  feel  confidence  in  the 
abiding  loyalty  of  this  seemingly  enthusiastic  and  devoted 
people  ;  and  he  knew  that  the  seeds  of  their  ancient  civil 
discords  were  not  dead,  but  only  waiting  for  the  occasion 
on  which  they  might  burst  forth  into  fresh  life,  and  bear 
their  evil  fruits  of  division,  enmity,  and  persecution. 

It  will  need  no  ordinary  attention  to  understand  the 
strange  combinations  of  the  various  parties  in  Florence, 
which  were  brought  about  by  the  ever-changing  circum- 
stances of  the  republic,  as  each  saw  an  opportunity  of 
advancing  its  own  views  or  interests ;  but  there  is  no 
great  difficulty  in  distinguishing  the  parties  themselves  or 
the  banners  under  which  they  were  ranged.  Foremost 
among  these  parties  were  those  who  were  called  the 


212 


SAVONAROLA. 


Arrabbiati  (the  madmen,  the  furious  party),  on  account 
of  their  furious  antagonism  to  Savonarola  and  his  policy. 
The  leaders  of  this  party  belonged  principally  to  the 
upper  and  more  wealthy  classes,  and  to  the  ancient 
nobility  of  Florence.  They  were  in  favor  of  an  aristo- 
cratic or  oligarchic  government  such  as  Florence  had, 
at  different  times,  possessed  in  its  earlier  days,  and  were 
utterly  opposed  to  every  form  of  popular  or  democratic 
government.  From  the  very  beginning  of  Savonarola's 
reforms  they  had  offered  a  persistent  opposition  to  his 
proposals  ;  and  in  one  case,  already  described,  they  had 
prevented  his  views  from  being  accepted.  They  had 
no  love  for  the  Medici,  since  they  regarded  them  as 
the  destroyers  of  the  aristocracy  ;  bi^t  common  adversity 
and  a  common  opposition  to  what  we  should  call  consti- 
tutional principles  made  them  frequent  allies.  If  they 
were  not  a  numerous  body  in  the  State,  their  wealth 
and  position  gave  them  influence ;  and  they  had  no 
scruple  in  using  for  their  purposes  the  mob  whom  they 
abhorred  and  desDi?'jd.  Additional  strength  was  given 
to  their  party  by  the  support  v.-hich  they  received  from 
rulers  like  the  Duke  of  Milan,  '  o  saw  in  the  popular 
revohitlon  of  Florence  an  event  which  might  be  used  as 
an  example  in  their  own  States. 

At  the  opposite  extreme  from  the  Arrabbiati  stood 
the  3ianchi  (the  Whites,  —  what  we  should  call  "  Red 
Republicans  "),  or  extreme  democratic  party,  —  mere 
levellers,  who  would  have  governed  the  city  by  the 
simple  force  of  numbers,  and  therefore  were  opposed 
to  the  exclusive  policy  on  which  Savonarola  had  pro- 
posed to  form  the  greater  council,  and  in  accordance 
with  which  it  was  finally  constituted.  They  were  not  a 
numerous  party,  and  they  were  in  a  measure  conciliated 


DIVISIONS, 


213 


by  the  efforts  of  the  Frate  to  obtain  for  the  republic  the 
reality  of  liberty,  even  when  bie  would  not  adopt  their 
method.  But  no  great  reliance  could  be  placed  upon 
them.  They  gave  to  the  moderate  democracy  of  Savo- 
narola a  support  the  same  in  kind,  but  not  so  intelligent, 
as  that  which  the  republican  Garibaldi  gave  to  the  con- 
stitutional monarchy  of  Victor  Emmanuel.  They  were 
always  ready  to  listen  to  proposals  for  sweeping  changes  ; 
and  still  worse,  they  were  only  too  likely  to  be  made  the 
tools  of  the  aristocratic  party  when  these  thought  they 
could  carry  their  ends  by  a  pretence  (jf  consideration  for 
the  multitude.  This  actually  happened  in  the  *'  Law  of 
the  Six  Beans." 

Sometimes  apart  from,  sometimes  in  union  with,  these 
two  sections  stood  a  party  far  more  dangerous,  both 
from  its  numbers  and  from  the  secrecy  with  which  its 
proceedings  were  conducted.  This  was  the  party  of  the 
Medici,  known  as  the  Bigi,  or  Grays.  When  the  Medici 
were  driven  from  Florence,  some  of  their  friends  were 
banished,  some  disappeared,  and  their  adherents  seemed 
to  have  vanished  from  the  State.  It  was  owing  to  Savo- 
narola that  the  partisans  of  the  fallen  family  had  been 
included  in  the  amnesty  granted  to  political  offenders  ; 
and  they  repaid  his  generosity  by  continually  plotting 
against  the  peace  of  the  city  and  the  influence  of  their 
benefactor.  The  Frate  was  aware  of  their  designs.  He 
knew  that  they  were  constantly  planning  the  recall  of 
Piero  de'  Medici,  and  he  warned  the  people  that  there 
were  those  among  them  who  were  plotting  to  overthrow 
their  liberty  and  to  restore  a  despotism  ;  but  they 
were  so  well  satisfied  with  the  changes  which  had  been 
effected  that  they  put  down  these  warnings  to  an  excess 
of  zeal. 


2T4 


SAVONAROLA. 


w 


V 


II 


The  only  pronounced  and  open  enemies  of  Savo- 
narola and  the  Frafeschi,  by  which  name  the  adherents 
of  the  Frate  were  known,  were  the  Arrabbiati.  By  them 
the  followers  of  Savonarola  were  nicknamed  Piagnoni 
(weepers,  or  mourners).  It  is  a  circumstance  not  with- 
out significance  that,  in  the  days  in  which  Florence  was 
preparing  again  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Medici, 
these  two  parties  became  united  as  the  supporters  of 
popular  government  against  the  pretensions  of  their  an- 
cient tyrants.  At  the  time  of  their  origin  the  Arrabbiati 
adopted  a  policy  somewhat  different.  Pretending  to 
accept  the  new  popular  government,  while  they  were 
ever  waiting  for  an  opportunity  of  overthrowing  it,  they 
concentrated  the  energy  of  their  hatred  and  opposition 
against  Savonarola  himself,  thus  hoping  to  gain  the  sup- 
port of  the  Bigi  and  the  Bianchi.  The  scheme  proved 
only  too  successful,  as  subsequent  events  will  show. 

There  were  naturally  subdivisions  of  these  parties,  of 
which  we  shall  hear  in  the  course  of  our  narrative  ;  and 
there  was  a  large  class,  called  by  Savonarola  /  Tiepidi 
(the  lukewarm),  who  stood  aloof,  indifferent  to  the 
questions,  religious  or  political,  which  were  moving  the 
republic  at  large. 

By  a  kind  of  accident  Filippo  Corbizzi,  a  declared 
enemy  of  Savonarola  and  an  opponent  of  popular  gov- 
ernment, was  elected  gonfaloniere.  It  was  while  the 
Accoppiatori  were  still  in  power,  and  were  unable  to 
agree  upon  a  candidate.  To  put  an  end  to  the  strife 
they  decided  to  elect  that  one  who  should  have  most 
votes.  Of  the  twenty  electors,  only  three  had  voted  for 
him  ;  but  it  was  the  largest  number,  and  he  was  chosen. 
The  new  gonfaloniere  was  a  mere  tool  in  the  hands  of 
the  aristocratic  party,  to  whom  he  owed  his  elevation. 


DIVISIONS. 


215 


Soon  after  his  accession  to  office  he  convoked  in  the 
Palazzo  a  council  of  tlieologians,  consisting  of  abbots, 
priors,  and  canons  of  San  Lorenzo  and  of  the  cathedral. 
Among  those  present  was  Marsilio  Ficino,  an  admirer 
of  the  preaching  of  Savonarola,  but  a  partisan  of  the 
Medici.  As  soon  as  they  were  assembled,  the  gon- 
faloniere  explained  to  them  that  he  had  to  complain  of 
Savonarola  for  interfering  in  the  affairs  of  the  State,  and 
he  counted  on  the  assistance  of  those  who  were  present 
in  his  endeavor  to  obtain  from  the  Frate  an  explanation 
of  his  conduct. 

Savonarola,  who  had  heard  nothing  of  the  meeting, 
at  this  moment  entered,  and  was  assailed  by  a  number 
of  those  present  as  a  disturber  of  the  public  peace. 
Foremost  among  his  assailants  was  a  certain  friar  *  be- 
longing to  his  own  order,  a  member  of  the  rival  con- 
vent of  Santa  Maria  Novella.  This  man  had  a  great 
reputation  for  theological  learning,  and  from  the  small- 
ness  of  his  stature  and  his  subtlety  in  argument  was 
surnamed  //  Garofanino  (the  little  Pink).  He  selected 
as  a  text  for  his  remarks  the  wcrds  of  Saint  Paul,  Nemo 
militans  Deo  implicat  se  negoiiis  secular ibus  (the  Vul- 
gate rendering  of  2  Tim.  ii.  4,  "  No  man  that  warreth 
entangleth  himself  with  the  affairs  of  this  life ; "  and 
that  version  was  even  more  suited  to  his  purpose  than 
either  the  original  Greek  or  our  own  English  transla- 
tion). Starting  from  these  words,  he  proceeded  to 
pour  out  a  torrent  of  invectives  against  Savonarola  for 
meddling  with  matters  which  did  not  belong  to  his 
sacred  vocation. 

The  Frate  waited  patiently  for  the  end  of  this  ha- 

*  Named  by  some  Yx\  Giovanni  Carlo  ;  in  the  English  trans- 
lation of  Villari's  new  edition  Tommaso  da  Rieti. 


I 


2l6 


SAVONAROLA. 


rangiie,  and  then,  standing  up,  he  made  a  very  calm 
reply  to  his  accuser. 

*•  In  me,"  he  said,  "is  fulfilled  that  saying  of  the  Lord, 
Filii  matris  men  pugnaverunt  contra  me^  —  '  My  mother's 
children  were  angry  with  me ; '  ^  yet  it  grieves  me  to 
see  that  my  fiercest  opponent  wears  the  same  habit  of 
Saint  Dominic.  That  habit  should  remind  him  that  our 
founder  involved  himself  not  a  little  in  the  things  of  this 
world ;  that  from  our  order  has  gone  forth  a  multitude  of 
religious  and  of  saints  who  have  concerned  themselves  in 
the  doings  of  the  State.  Will  the  republic  of  Florence 
remember  the  Cardinal  Latino,  Saint  Peter  Martyr,  Saint 
Katharine  of  Siena,  Saint  Antonino,  who  all  belonged  to 
the  order  of  Saint  Dominic  1  It  is  not  concerning  our- 
selves with  the  doings  of  this  world,  in  which  God  has 
placed  us,  which  is  to  be  condemned  in  a  religious,  but  it 
is  doing  so  without  having  regard  to  a  higher  end,  without 
an  eye  to  the  good  of  religion." 

He  then  challenged  those  present  to  quote  a  single 
passage  which  condemned  the  supporting  of  a  free 
government  in  order  to  secure  a  greater  triumph  for 
religion  and  morality.  "  You  will  easily  find,"  he 
added,  '•'  that  religion  should  not  be  treated  of  in  pro- 
fane places,  or  theology  discussed  in  a  palace." 

There  was  no  reply  ready  to  this  defence,  and  they 
do  not  seem  to  have  attempted  it.  By  way  of  assail- 
ing him  on  a  side  which  they  thought  more  vulnerable, 
they  asked  him  :  "  Well,  then,  tell  us  distinctly,  do  your 
words  truly  come  from  God,  or  not,  that  we  may  know 
whether  we  ought  to  believe  you."  Savonarola  was 
contented  to  give  back  the  answer  of  our  Lord,  and 
probably  for  the  same  reason,  "  Ego  palam  locutus  sum 

1  Cant.  i.  6. 


DIVISIONS. 


217 


mundo ;  ,  ,  ,  et  in  occulta  locutus  sum  nihil,  —  *  I  spake 
openly  to  the  world;  .  .  .  and  in  secret  have  I  said 
nothing ; '  ^  and  now  I  have  no  more  to  add."  And 
so  the  assembly  broke  up,  little  contented  with  the 
result,  but  unable  to  obtain  more  satisfaction.  They 
had  only  added  to  the  influence  of  the  man  whom 
they  would  willingly  have  crushed. 

This  singular  gathering  must  have  been  held  about 
the  same  time  that  Savonarola  preached  the  remarkable 
sermon  on  the  13th  January  of  which  we  have  given 
a  full  account.  One  thing  is  quite  clear,  —  that  it  pro- 
duced little  difference  in  his  manner  of  preaching.  In 
the  following  season  of  Lent,  as  we  have  seen,  he  re- 
stricted himself  principally  to  religious  subjects,  —  prob- 
ably on  account  of  the  efforts  made  by  his  enemies 
to  induce  the  Pope  to  put  a  stop  to  his  preaching  in 
Florence ;  but  during  the  interval  between  Advent  and 
Lent  he  still  recommended  the  people  to  persist  in 
the  formation  of  the  new  government,  entreating  them 
to  cultivate  charity,  union,  and  peace. 

The  time  had  not  yet  come  for  the  Pope's  interfe- 
rence. Savonarola  had  powerful  friends  at  this  time 
in  Italy.  The  French  were  still  at  Naples;  and  the 
Pope,  although  he  was  induced  at  first  to  send  an  order 
to  the  Frate  to  preach  during  Lent  at  Lucca,  was  after- 
wards led  to  withdraw  his  brief.  He  had  heard  of  the 
visions  and  prophecies  of  a  Dominican  friar  at  Florence, 
and  he  knew  that  he  was  an  object  of  dislike  to  a 
section  of  the  population ;  but  Alexander  also  knew 
that  his  withdrawal  from  Florence  would  produce  the 
greatest  indignation  in  the  city,  and  he  was  not  pre- 
pared to  excite  the  enmity  of  King  Charles. 

1  St.  John  xviii.  20. 


■ 


i  \ 


218 


SAVONAROLA. 


It  was  inevitable  that  Savonarola's  sentiment  of  obe- 
dience should  receive  a  shock  from  this  conduct  of  the 
supreme  Pontiff.  It  would  have  been  a  great  trial  to 
leave  Florence  at  such  a  moment,  but  he  was  prepared 
to  submit.  It  is  probable  that  he  afterwards  thought 
less  of  papal  briefs  when  he  found  how  lightly  they 
were  given  and  recalled  by  the  Pope  himself  He 
could  not  help  knowing  that  the  order  was  originally 
issued  to  gratify  his  enemies ;  and  he  must  have  guessed 
that  it  was  withdrawn  from  no  more  worthy  motive. 


\ 


THE  DEPARTURE  OF  THE  FRENCH,  219 


CHAFFER  XIII. 

THE    DEPARTURE   OF  THE  FRENCH. 

The  success  which  had  attended  the  French  on  their 
first  invasion  of  Italy  accompanied  them  throughout 
their  expedition.  They  reached  Naples  without  having 
encountered  any  serious  obstacle  on  the  way.  King 
Alfonso  had  fled,  and  the  French  rule  had  been  estab- 
lished to  the  apparent  satisfaction  of  the  people  at  large. 
But  it  was  not  long  before  the  Neapolitans  grew  weary 
of  their  new  masters.  They  soon  made  it  clear  that 
they  had  not  come  to  reform  the  government,  but  to 
plunder  the  inhabitants  for  their  own  benefit.  At  the 
same  time,  the  alarm  produced  by  the  facility  with 
which  the  invaders  had  traversed  the  whole  country 
began  to  spread  among  all  the  princes  of  Italy. 
Those  who  had  been  the  foremost  to  invite  them,  like 
Lodovico  il  Moro,  now  shared  in  these  feelings  of 
alarm ;  and  he  who  had  welcomed  them  as  friends  now 
proceeded  to  form  a  league  of  the  Italian  powers  for 
the  "  expulsion  of  the  barbarians  "  from  the  country. 

The  League  was  formed  under  the  pretext  of  de- 
fending the  country  against  the  Turks;  and  it  was 
signed  at  Venice  on  the  31st  of  March,  1495,  ^^^  Pope, 
the  Emperor,  the  King  of  Spain,  and  the  republic  of 
Venice  entering  into  alliance  with  the  Duke  of  Milan. 
Its  true  design,  however,  was  immediately  discerned 


\V 


f 


a  20 


SAVONAROLA. 


I 


1^  / 


1  .'■ 


r 


by  the  shrewdness  of  the  French  ambassador,  De 
Commines,  who  was  still  at  Venice ;  and  on  the  very 
day  of  the  signing  of  the  treaty  he  wrote  to  his  master 
at  Naples,  informing  him  of  the  confederacy  that  had 
been  formed  against  him.  Burlamacchi  relates  that 
King  Charles,  on  receiving  this  intelligence,  sent  as 
messenger  to  Savonarola  a  certain  Messer  Jacopo,  to 
ask  whether  there  would  be  danger  in  his  return  to 
France.  "  Tell  his  Majesty,  the  most  Christian  king," 
replied  the  Frate,  "  that  God  has  conferred  upon  him 
many  benefits,  and  has  granted  him  to  acquire  so  great 
a  kingdom  without  any  difficulty;  and  although  since 
then  he  has  committed  many  sins,  God  will  not  fail 
him,  and  he  need  have  no  doubts  as  to  his  enemies, 
for  he  will  return  with  victory  into  his  own  kingdom 
of  France." 

It  has  been  suggested  that  this  Messer  Jacopo  was 
no  other  than  Philippe  de  Commines,  who  after  having 
written  to  warn  the  king  of  the  League  formed  against 
him,  had  at  once  set  out  for  Naples.  On  his  way  to 
join  the  king,  he  tells  us  that  as  he  passed  through 
Florence  he  went  to  pay  a  visit  to  Frfere  Hieronyme, 
who  was  reported  to  be  a  man  of  very  holy  life ;  and 
he  did  so  because  the  friar  had  spoken  in  favor  of  the 
king,  and  had  prevented  the  Florentines  from  rising 
against  the  French  j  "  for  never  any  preacher  had  so 
much  authority  in  a  city." 

"  He  always  affirmed  that  our  king  would  come  into  Italy, 
saying  that  he  was  sent  by  God  to  chastise  the  tyranny 
of  the  princes,  and  that  none  would  be  able  to  oppose  him. 
He  foretold  likewise  that  he  'ould  come  to  Pisa  and  enter 
it,  and  that  the  State  of  Florence  should  be  dissolved  on 
that  day.     And  so  it  fell  out,  for  Piero  de'  Medici  was 


THE  DEPARTURE  OP   THE  FRENCH. 


221 


[o  Italy, 
[tyranny 
Ise  him. 
Id  enter 
/ed  on 
ici  was 


driven  out  that  very  day.  Many  other  things  he  presaged 
long  before  they  came  to  pass;  as,  for  instance,  the  death 
of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici.  And  he  openly  declared  that  he 
knew  it  by  revelation ;  as  likewise  he  predicted  that  the 
reformation  of  the  Church  should  be  owing  to  the  sword. 
This  is  not  yet  accomplished ;  but  it  very  nearly  occurred, 
and  he  still  maintains  that  it  shall  come  to  pass. 

"  Many  persons  blamed  him  for  pretending  to  receive 
divine  revelations,  but  others  believed  him;  for  my  part, 
I  think  him  a  good  man,  I  asked  him  whether  our  king 
would  return  safe  into  France,  considering  the  great  prepa- 
rations of  the  Venetians  against  him ;  of  which  he  gave 
a  better  account  than  I  could,  though  I  had  lately  come 
from  Venice.  He  told  me  that  the  king  would  meet  with 
some  difficulties  by  the  way,  but  he  could  overcome  them 
all  with  honor,  though  he  had  but  a  hundred  men  in  his 
company  ;  for  God,  who  had  conducted  him  thither,  would 
guard  him  back  again.  But  because  he  had  not  applied 
himself  as  he  ought  to  the  reformation  of  the  Church,  and 
because  he  had  permitted  his  soldiers  to  rob  and  plunder 
the  poor  people  (as  well  those  who  had  freely  opened 
their  gates  to  him  as  the  enemy  which  had  opposed  him), 
therefore  God  had  pronounced  judgment  against  him,  and 
in  a  short  time  he  would  receive  chastisement. 

"  However,  he  bade  me  tell  him  that,  if  he  would  have 
compassion  upon  the  people,  and  command  his  army  to 
do  them  no  wrong,  and  punish  them  when  they  did,  as  it 
was  his  office  to  do,  God  would  then  mitigate,  if  not  revoke, 
his  sentence ;  but  that  it  would  not  be  sufficient  for  him 
to  plead  that  he  did  them  no  wrong  himself.  And  he  said 
that  he  would  meet  the  king  when  he  came,  and  tell  him 
so  from  his  own  mouth  ;  and  so  he  did,  and  pressed  hard 
for  the  restitution  of  the  Florentine  towns.  When  he 
mentioned  the  sentence  of  God  against  him,  the  death  of 
the  dauphin  came  very  fresh  into  my  mind,  for  I  knew 
nothing  else  that  would  touch  the  king  so  sensibly.  This 
I  have  thought  it  fit  to  record,  to  make  it  the  more  manifest 


r   I' 

« > 

n 


222 


SAVONAROLA, 


that  this  whole  expedition  was  a  mystery  conducted  by 
God  Himself." » 

This  testimony  is  valuable,  not  only  as  furnishing  us 
with  the  judgment  of  one  who  was  a  keen  observer  of 
his  fellow-men  and  an  experienced  man  of  the  world, 
but  also  from  its  entire  agreement  with  all  that  we  learn 
of  Savonarola,  his  words  and  his  tone,  from  other  trust- 
worthy sources.  The  man  who  thus  addresses  the 
ambassador  of  France,  and  who  assumes  no  different 
attitude  towards  his  master,  the  king  himself,  is  the 
same  man  of  whom  we  read  in  the  pages  of  his  con- 
temporaneous biographers,  and  who  speaks  to  us  from 
the  pulpit  of  the  cathedral  church  of  Florence. 

The  king  did  not  wait  for  the  arrival  of  Commines ;  he 
left  Naples  on  the  20th  of  May  (1495),  leaving  a  strong 
garrison  in  the  forts,  and  taking  the  rest  of  his  army 
with  him.  On  his  way  he  visited  Rome,  intending  to 
have  an  interview  with  the  Pope ;  but  Alexander  had 
left  the  city  and  had  fled  to  Orvieto.  Continuing  his 
march,  he  reached  Siena  on  the  13th  of  June.  The 
Florentines  had  lost  all  faith  in  King  Charles  and  the 
French.  They  would  not  enter  into  alliance  with  their 
enemies,  but  they  dreaded  equally  their  friendship 
and  their  enmity.  They  were  already  discovering  what 
Machiavelli  was  shortly  to  write  of  the  French,  that  they 
were  quite  ready  to  make  promises  which  they  had  not 
the  power  to  fulfil,  but  that  they  never  fulfilled  those 
which  they  were  able  to  keep.  The  king  had  promised 
that  he  would  restore  the  fortresses  which  Piero  de* 
Medici  had  delivered  into  his  hands,  as  soon  as  he 
should  get  possession  of  Naples;  but  they  were  still 

*  Book  viii.  c.  3.    Bohn's  translation,  vol.  ii.  pp.  190,  191. 


|i|    ■ 


THE  DEPARTURE  OP   THE  FRENCH. 


223 


:ted  by 

ling  us 
srver  of 
;  world, 
/e  learn 
jr  trust- 
,ses  the 
different 
;  is  the 
his  con- 
US  from 

■ 

lines ;  he 
a  Strong 
his  army 
inding  to 
nder  had 
luing  his 
le.    The 
and  the 
irith  their 
riendship 
•ing  what 
that  they 
had  not 
ed  those 
iromised 
'iero  de' 
l»n  as  he 
irere  still 

bo,  191- 


garrisoned  by  his  soldiers.  The  Florentines  had  re- 
monstrated with  him  on  this  breach  of  faith,  and  they 
had  endeavored  to  recover  Pisa  by  force  of  arms  ;  but 
the  Pisans  received  reinforcements  from  different  parts 
of  Italy,  and  even,  it  was  said,  from  the  French  king 
himself.  Tlie  only  answer  he  returned  to  the  remon- 
strances of  the  Florentines  was  this  :  "  But  what  can  I 
do  if  your  Signori  make  all  their  subjects  discontented 
with  them?" 

When  the  news  reached  Florence  that  the  French 
had  entered  the  territories  of  the  republic  and  that 
Piero  de'  Medici  was  with  them,  the  wrath  and  terror 
of  the  citizens  knew  no  bounds.  It  was  generally  be- 
lieved that  the  king  intended  to  restore  the  hated  ty- 
ranny from  which  they  had  escaped.  All  ages  and 
classes  flew  to  arms,  and  they  hastened  to  put  the  city 
in  a  state  of  defence.  Piagnoni  and  Arrabbiati  joined 
in  arms,  in  counsel,  and  in  prayers.  The  city  was  given 
up  to  religious  exercises ;  and  the  Frate  had  to  com- 
plain that  some  were  willing  to  join  in  their  prayers,  but 
neglected  to  take  up  arms.  "  Offer  prayer,"  he  cried 
from  the  pulpit,  "  but  do  not  neglect  human  precautions. 
We  must  help  ourselves  in  every  way,  by  every  means, 
and  then  the  Lord  will  be  with  us.  Courage,  my  breth- 
ren, and  above  all  things  union.  If  you  remain  united 
and  agreed  in  one  will,  even  if  the  whole  world  were 
against  us,  the  victory  will  be  ours." 

When  the  Florentines  sent  ambassadors  to  the  king, 
asking  by  what  route  he  intended  to  march,  that  they 
might  furnish  provisions,  he  only  replied  :  "  Provide  the 
whole  country."  It  was  impossible  that  the  meeting 
should  be  a  friendly  one  when  the  French  saw  the  Flo- 
rentines  flying  to    arms  at  their   approach,   and  the 


' 


il 


!    I 


r 

El 


li  M 


P 


ii 


M 


224 


SAVONAROLA. 


ambassadors  of  the  State  found  Piero  de'  Medici  in  the 
camp  of  the  king. 

It  was  then  that  the  citizens,  as  in  all  their  mobt  hope- 
less perplexities,  turned  to  Savonarola.  They  knew  that 
Charles  had  listened  respectfully  to  him  at  Pisa  when 
he  would  hardly  give  an  audience  to  their  ambassadors. 
They  remembered  that  it  was  by  the  persuasion  of  the 
Frate  that  he  had  led  his  army  out  of  Florence.  By  an 
accident  a  letter  of  his,  written  to  King  Charles,  fell  into 
the  hands  of  his  enemies,  and  disclosed  the  fact  that  he 
was  carrying  on  a  correspondence  with  him.  But  al- 
though the  letter  was  garbled  in  its  publication,  and  was 
actually  published  in  order  to  incite  the  Venetian  League 
against  Savonarola,  it  served  only  to  increase  the  esteem 
in  which  he  was  held  by  his  fellow-citizens.  It  was 
couched  in  the  same  bold  and  imperious  language  which 
he  had  employed  at  the  interviews,  —  the  same  which,  as 
a  prophet  of  righteousness  proclaiming  the  will  of  God, 
he  ever  felt  that  he  had  a  right  to  use. 

"  Most  Christian  Sire,"  he  said,  •'  the  Lord  wills  that  the 
Florentines  should  remain  in  alliance  with  your  Majesty; 
but  He  also  wills  that,  under  your  protection,  their  liberties 
should  be  confirmed,  and  not  the  authority  of  any  particu- 
lar citizen,  — because  the  Divine  Goodness  has  determined 
everywhere  to  put  down  despotism.  The  Lord  will  punish 
terribly  those  private  citizens  who  shall  wish  to  usurp 
dominion  in  this  flourishing  republic,  as  it  has  been  in  the 
past ;  because  this  new  and  popular  government  and  ad- 
ministration has  been  appointed  by  God,  and  not  by  any 
man,  and  because  He  has  chosen  this  city,  and  will  magnify 
it,  and  replenish  it  with  His  own  servants ;  and  he  who 
touches  it,  touches  the  apple  of  His  eye.  Wherefore,  O 
Sire,  if  you  will  not  obey,  and  will  not  maintain  your  prom- 
ises to  the  Florentines,  and  will  not  restore  their  fortresses, 


n  ! 


THE  DEPARTURE  OF    THE  FRENCH. 


225 


1)1 


i  in  the 

,t  hope- 
lew  that 
;a  when 
Lssadors. 
n  of  the 

By  an 

fell  into 

t  that  he 

But  al- 
and was 

I  League 
e  esteem 

It  was 
ige  which 
which,  as 

II  of  God, 

Is  that  the 

Majesty ; 

|r  liberties 

ly  particu- 

itermined 

ill  punish 

to  usurp 
|een  in  the 
it  and  ad- 
|ot  by  any 
U  magnify 
|d  he  who 

irefore,  O 
lour  prom- 

iortresses, 


many  will  be  the  adversities  which  will  come  upon  you, 
and  the  people  will  rebel  against  you." 

The  same  language  which  he  had  used  in  his  letters 
he  did  not  hesitate  to  employ  when  he  again  met  the 
king  face  to  face  at  Poggibonsi.  Savonarola  reminded 
him  that  he  was  now  returning  home,  almost  a  fugitive ; 
and  that  he  had  brought  these  misfortunes  upon  himself, 
as  his  monitor  had  predicted  that  he  would,  if  he  refused 
to  accomplish  the  work  for  which  God  had  brought  him 
into  Italy.  * 

"Most  Christian  Prince,"  he  said,  "thou  hast  provoked 
the  anger  of  the  Lord  by  not  having  maintained  thy  faith 
to  the  Florentines ;  by  having  abandoned  that  reform  of 
the  Church  which  the  Lord  had  so  often  through  me  an- 
nounced to  thee,  and  to  which  He  had  chosen  thee  by  such 
manifest  signs.  For  this  time  thou  wilt  escape  from  these 
dangers  ;  but  if  thou  resume  not  the  work  which  thou  hast 
abandoned,  if  thou  obey  not  the  commands  repeated  anew 
to  thee  by  His  unworthy  servant,  I  announce  to  thee  that 
still  greater  will  be  the  adversities  which  the  wrath  of  God 
will  send  upon  thee,  and  another  will  be  chosen  in  thy 
place." 

The  king  was  deeply  impressed  by  this  bold  language, 
and  by  the  tone  in  which  it  was  uttered ;  and  requested 
that  Savonarola  would  accompany  him  to  Pisa,  whither 
he  now  conducted  his  army.  Savonarola,  however,  after 
a  second  interview  at  Castel  Fiorentino,  returned  home  ; 
and  from  the  pulpit  he  announced,  on  the  21st  of  June, 
that  for  this  time  the  danger  was  over,  and  took  occa- 
sion again  to  entreat  the  people  to  be  diligent  in  prayer 
and  holy  living,  to  cherish  union,  and  to  preserve  the 
popular  government. 

The  Pisans  received  the  king  with  every  demonstra- 


I 


t, 


226 


SAVONAROLA. 


I  f  ^ 


tion  of  joy.  After  doing  their  best  to  conciliate  him  and 
his  followers  by  costly  presents,  a  number  of  the  most 
beautiful  women  of  the  city  came  to  him  one  day  clothed 
in  mourning,  with  their  hair  dishevelled,  their  feet  bare, 
and  ropes  round  their  necks,  representing  the  bondage 
and  misery  in  which  they  were  held  by  Florence ;  and 
implored  him  to  restore  their  liberty.  Such  a  request, 
however  reasonable  in  itself,  it  was  not  in  the  power  of 
the  king  to  grant.  He  had  contracted  to  restore  Pisa 
to  the  Florentines.  To  this  engagement  he  had  added 
most  solemnly  his  own  kingly  word ;  but  we  have  seen 
enough  of  his  character  to  know  how  lightly  he  would 
hold  any  such  promises.  It  was  a  strange  way  that  he 
took  of  at  once  setting  at  nought  the  sentiments  of  com- 
passion which  the  entreaties  of  the  Pisan  women  had 
awakened,  and  of  breaking  his  engagements  with  Flo- 
rence. He  neither  gave  Pisa  liberty  nor  restored  the 
fortresses  to  Florence,  but  leaving  garrisons  behind 
him,  he  took  his  way  to  France.  The  whole  expedition 
was  productive  only  of  evil.  The  French  had  disg^^.sted 
their  allies,  they  had  disappointed  their  most  moderate 
hopes,  and  had  simply  left  an  ineradicable  impression  of 
their  own  selfishness,  rapacity,  and  faithlessness.  The 
king  pretended  that  he  had  given  orders  for  the  sur- 
render of  the  fortresses  to  Forence ;  and  it  is  said  that 
in  the  month  of  September  following,  he  sent  an  express 
command  that  they  should  be  delivered  up.  Whether 
he  at  the  same  time  sent  private  oriers  to  the  contrary, 
or  whether  his  generals  knew  that  they  might  safely  dis- 
regard the  instructions  they  had  received,  the  result  was 
the  same.  In  January,  1496,  the  generals  sold  the 
fortress  of  Pisa  to  the  citizens ;  those  of  Sarzana  and 
Sarzanello  to  the  Genoese ;  that  of  Pietra  Santa  to  the 


THE  DEPARTURE  OF   THE  FRENCH. 


227 


lim  and 
le  most 
clothed 
;et  bare, 
bondage 
ce ;  and 
request, 
power  of 
tore  Pisa 
id  added 
lave  seen 
he  would 
ly  that  he 
ts  of  com- 
Dmen  had 
with  Flo- 
stored  the 
IS   behind 
[expedition 
disg^isted 
moderate 
iression  of 
less.     The 
»r  the  sur- 
said  that 
|an  express 
Whether 
|e  contrary, 
safely  dis- 
resalt  was 
sold  the 
irzana  and 
inta  to  the 


Lucchese  ;  to  the  Florentines  only  that  of  Leghorn  was 
restored.  The  French  king  had  disappointed  the  expec- 
tations of  Savonarola,  and  had  apparently  shaken  off  the 
fears  engendered  by  his  solemn  warnings.  When  both 
the  king  and  the  Frate  were  dead,  Philippe  de  Comn.-.nes 
remembered  these  things  and  wrote  :  — 

"  I  am  sure  he  foretold  several  things  which  afterwards 
came  to  pass,  and  which  all  his  friends  in  Floren'^e  could 
never  have  suggested.  And  as  to  our  master,  and  the  evils 
with  which  he  threatened  him,  they  happened  exactly  as 
you  have  heard,  —  first  the  death  of  the  Dauphin,  and  then 
his  own  death ;  predictions  of  which  I  have  seen  in  letters 
under  his  own  hand  to  the  king."  * 

Deeply  as  Florence  had  suffered  from  the  invasion  of 
the  French,  it  still  had  reason  to  fear  the  effe'^ts  of  their 
departure.  Partly  from  old  attachment,  partly  from  fear, 
partly  from  the  state  of  isolation  into  which  it  had  fallen, 
the  city  remained  faithful  to  its  ancient  allies.  The 
Florentines  now  declared  Charles  to  be  "  a  man  without 
honor  or  shame  or  prudence,  —  an  assassin,  a  thief, 
who  paid  no  regard  to  his  promises,  and  was  destitute 
of  all  morality  and  of  every  trace  of  religion ;  anc'  his 
ministers  the  basest,  the  most  greedy,  and  the  most  per- 
fidious men  that  could  be  imagined."'  But  the  presence 
of  the  French  had  at  least  kept  their  other  enemies  at 
bay ;  and  now  that  the  League  had  no  longer  any  reason 
to  fear  the  invaders,  they  were  able  to  turn  their  enmity 
against  the  Florentines.  It  has  already  been  mentioned 
that  the  principal  governments  of  Italy  had  resented  the 
expulsion  of  the  Medici,  and  regarded  lue  newly  formed 
constitution  with  great  aversion.    The  Pope  and  the 

^  Book  viii.  c.  26. 


228 


SAVONAROLA. 


U 
I 


1^^  \    ' 


Venetians  were  bent  upon  restoring  Piero ;  but  happily 
for  the  Florentines,  Ludovico  of  Milan  not  only  had  a 
personal  dislike  to  him,  but  cherished  some  hope  of 
forming  the  whole  of  Northern  Italy  into  a  united  king- 
dom. His  support,  therefore,  although  it  was  promised 
to  the  enterprise,  was  of  a  very  uncertain  and  untrust- 
worthy character. 

The  Florentines  made  energetic  preparations  to  resist 
this  new  invasion  of  their  recovered  liberties.  Savo- 
narola, who  had  for  a  time  abstained  from  preaching,  in 
consequence  of  reports  from  Rome  that  he  was  becoming 
more  and  more  distasteful  to  the  Pope,  now  returned  to 
the  pulpit;  and  on  the  nth  of  October  his  voice  was 
again  heard  exhorting  them  to  defend  their  constitution, 
and  to  neglect  no  means  of  repelling  those  who  were 
now  endeavoring  to  overthrow  it. 

When  it  was  in  any  way  possible  to  extend  pardon 
and  amnesty,  even  to  those  whom  he  regarded  as  trai- 
tors, Savonarola's  voice  was  ever  raised  in  favor  of 
clemency  and  mercy;  but  when  the  interests  of  the 
commonwealth  were  at  stake,  when  he  saw  that  those 
who  had  been  treated  with  excessive  forbearance  were 
only  the  more  bent  upon  overthrowing  the  authority 
which  had  dealt  so  mtircifully  with  them,  he  did  not 
hesitate  to  counsel  the  strongest  and  severest  measures 
that  could  be  taken  to  avert  the  threatened  danger. 
Speaking  of  the  friends  of  the  Medici,  who  were  now 
plotting  to  restore  the  fallen  despotism,  he  declared  that 
the  punishment  which  was  their  due  was  death. 

"You  must  deal  with  them,"  he  says,  "as  the  Romans 
did  with  those  who  wished  to  bring  back  Tarquin.  .  .  .  Do 
justice,  I  tell  you.  .  .  .  This  great  council  is  the  work  of 
God,  and  not  of  men ;  and  whoever  wishes  to  change  it, 


I' 


THE  DEPARTURE  OP  THE  FRENCH. 


229 


whoever  wishes  to  set  up  a  tyrant,  whoever  wishes  to  make 
a  government  of  private  citizens,  will  be  accursed  of  the 
Lord  forever." 

Thei .  wao  to  be  no  mercy  for  such;  whoever  they 
were,  i-hey  were  to  lose  their  heads. 

The  danger  soon  passed  away.  Piero  collected 
money  and  troops,  and  advanced  against  the  city  with 
the  intention  of  forcing  an  entrance  ;  but  the  promised 
reinforcements  did  not  arrive,  and  he  v;as  not  able  to 
begin  the  attack.  The  government  of  Florence,  stirred 
up  by  the  words  of  Savonarola,  declared  Piero  de'  Medici 
a  rebel  against  the  State,  so  that  he  might  with  impunity 
be  put  to  death.  And  they  further  offered  a  reward  of 
four  thousand  gold  florins  to  whoever  should  kill  Piero, 
and  two  thousand  for  the  head  of  Giuliano  de*  Medici ; 
and  officers  were  appointed  to  administer  their  property 
for  the  benefit  of  the  republic. 

But  they  did  not  restrict  themselves  to  mere  threats. 
They  suspended  the  war  against  Pisa,  and  sent  an  army 
into  the  field  against  Piero,  who  was  still  remaining 
inactive,  expecting  the  assistance  which  the  League  had 
promised.  At  last,  seeing  that  his  present  enterprise 
had  become  hopeless,  he  fled  to  Rome,  where  he  strove 
to  embitter  the  Pope  against  Florence  and  its  teacher, 
and  hptched  new  schemes  for  the  repair  of  his  broken 
fortunes. 


:,i  f 


230 


SAVONAROLA, 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


POPE  ALEXANDER  VI.  AND  SAVONAROLA. 


h. 


II 


It  is  difficult  to  write  the  simple  truth  respecting  the 
man  who  occupied  the  papal  throne  under  the  name 
of  Alexander  VI.  without  appearing  to  repeat  the  in- 
ventions of  blinded  prejudice  and  inveterate  and  reck- 
less enmity.  Yet  the  proved  facts  of  his  personal  and 
official  life  are  almost  as  bad  as  any  hostile  fabrications 
could  be  made  ;  and  the  very  fables  and  legends  which 
have  gathered  around  his  history  are  an  evidence 
of  the  impression  which  he  produced  upon  his  own 
contemporaries. 

As  an  instance  of  these  stories,  a  writer  of  the  period  * 
gravely  relates  that  the  manner  of  his  death  was  uncer- 
tain, some  believing  that  he  had  been  carried  off  by 
a  demon,  others  that  he  was  poisoned  by  wine  which 
he  or  his  son  had  prepared  for  one  of  his  cardinals. 
The  story  of  the  poisoning  is  now  discredited ;  but 
it  shows  us  in  what  estimation  his  Holiness  was  held. 

As  we  have  here  to  do  with  his  actions  in  relation 
to  the  subject  of  this  memoir,  rather  than  with  his 
general  character  or  history,  a  very  few  words  must 
suffice  on  these  points.  Rodrigo  Borgia  belonged  to 
a  noble  Spanish  family.  He  came  to  Rome  during 
the  pontificate  of  his  uncle,  Calixtus  III.,  and  was  by 

1  Pico  della  Mi  rand  'a  the  younger. 


POPE  ALEXANDER   VI.  AND  SAVONAROLA.    231 

him  made  Archbishop  of  Valentia  and  cardinal  before 
he  was  twenty-five  years  of  age.  Even  those  who  take 
the  worst  view  of  his  character  do  not  deny  that  he 
was  a  man  of  very  great  ability,  and  that  he  attained 
to  a  certain  kind  of  political  influence,  and  even  of 
popularity,  among  his  own  subjects.  He  had  at  least 
four  sons  and  one  daughter,  —  all  illegitimate,  of  course  ; 
but  that  was  not  thought  much  of  in  those  days.  He 
obtained  the  papal  chair  by  bribing  a  majority  of  car- 
dinals to  vote  for  him.  It  is  said  that  his  countryman, 
King  Ferdinand  "the  Catholic,"  wept  when  he  heard 
that  he  was  made  Pope,  and  predicted  the  evils  which 
would  follow  to  the  Church.  Crimes  of  the  most 
frightful  character  have  been  laid  to  his  charge,  and 
his  vices  have  probably  been  exaggerated.  But  it  is 
agreed  on  all  sides  that  there  has  hardly  ever  been 
a  Pope  who  did  more  to  disgrace  the  papal  chair.  He 
was  impure,  treacherous,  and  guilty  of  the  most  open 
and  unblushing  simony.  A  Latin  couplet  of  the  period 
is  not  too  severe  :  — 


"  Vendit  Alexander  claves,  altaria,  Christum. 
Emerat  ille  prius,  vendere  jure  potest." 

**  Alexander  sells  keys,  altars,  Christ. 

He  had  first  bought  them :  he  has  a  right  to  sell  them. 

As  the  most  monstrous  characters  in  history  have 
not  been  without  their  defenders,  so  it  has  been  at- 
tempted to  deny  nearly  all  the  more  serious  charges 
brought  against  Alexander ;  but  it  is  evident  that  it  is 
with  a  sense  of  the  trduousness  of  the  task  that  his 
cause  has  been  pleaded.  One  of  the  latest  of  those 
who  have  sought  at  least  to  mitigate  the  sentence  of 
history   confesses  that  he   would  have  liked  to  close 


•^!  1 


ftii 


(f 


u 


i 


1 


if  I 


232 


SAVONAROLA, 


the  history  of  the  Popes  of  the  fifteenth  century  "  with 
a  holy  and  more  glorious  figure  than  his ;  '*  and  adds, 
"Say,  if  you  please,  that  Alexander  VI.  dishonored 
religion  and  humanity,  we  will  not  coiilradict  you  ;  "  * 
only  his  is  an  exceptional  character  among  the  Popes. 
It  will  be  sufficient  here  to  deal  with  those  of  his  ac- 
tions which  belong  to  our  history.  , 

When  the  enemies  of  Savonarola  first  reported  to 
Pope  Alexander  the  bold  and  censorious  language 
which  the  Frate  was  using  with  reference  to  th^  rulers— 
of  Church  and  State,  he  was  inclined  to  regard  his 
words  as  the  utterances  of  a  fanatic  who  might  safely 
be  treated  with  contempt;  and  probably  the  reports 
of  the  visions  and  prophecies  of  the  Frate  confirmed 
him  in  this  judgment.  When,  moreover,  he  considered 
that  the  Florentine  mystic  was  held  in  honor  by  the 
French  king,  he  saw  the  inexpediency  of  using  harsh 
measures  against  him  while  so  powerful  a  friend  was 
still  at  Naples. 

Shortly  after  the  departure  of  the  French,  the  enmity 
against  the  Frate,  kept  in  check  by  the  dangers  of  the 
republic  and  by  the  necessity  for  union  among  its  par- 
ties, broke  out  afresh.  The  Arrabbiati,  backed  up 
by  Ludovico  il  Moro,  sent  to  Rome  reports  of  his  ser- 
mons exaggerated  and  distorted.  He  was  represented 
as  a  seditious  citizen,  as  a  disloyal  priest,  as  the  enemy 
of  all  authority  and  stable  government.  Refugees  of 
the  Medicean  party  who  had  taken  up  their  residence 
at  Rome  denounced  him  as  the  author  of  all  their  mis- 
fortunes. His  old  opponent,  Yvh.  Mariano  da  Gennaz- 
zano,  did  not  hesitate  to  declare  that  he  was  a  heretic. 

^  Abbe  Christophe,  La  Fapaute  pendant  le  quinzi^me  Si^cle, 
ii.  580. 


POPE  ALEXANDER   VL  AND  SAVONAROLA.    233 

The  Pope  determined  at  lengtli  to  put  an  end  to 
the  work  of  the  Florentine  preacher ;  but  he  thought 
it  best  first  to  try  the  effect  of  flattery.    -,  . 

-i* Beloved  son,"  wrote  his  Holiness,  "health  {salutem) 
and  apostolic  benediction !  We  have  heard  by  the  testi- 
mony of  many  that,  of  all  the  laborers  in  the  vineyard  of 
the  Lord  of  Sabaoth,  thou  art  the  most  zealous.  At  which 
we  greatly  rejoice  and  give  praises  to  Almighty  God,  who 
has  bestowed  such  grace  on  a  human  being.  Nor  do  we 
doubt  that  thou  hast  these  things  from  the  Divine  Spirit, 
who  distributes  immortal  graces,  and  that  thou  canst  sow 
the  word  of  God  in  a  Christian  people,  and  bring  forth 
fruit  an  hundred-fold.  ...  It  has  recently  been  related 
to  us,  also,  that  in  thy  public  sermons  thou  dost  assert 
that  those  things  which  thou  dost  announce  concerning 
the  future,  thou  speakest  not  of  thyself  or  of  human  wis- 
dom, but  by  divine  revelation.  Desiring,  therefore,  as  be- 
longs to  our  pastoral  office,  to  speak  with  thee  on  these 
subjects,  and  to  hear  from  thy  mouth,  that  we  may  by  thee 
attain  to  a  better  knowledge  and  practice  of  that  which  is 
pleasing  to  God,  we  exhort  and  command  thee,  in  virtue 
of  holy  obedience,  to  come  to  us  as  soon  as  possible.  We 
will  see  thee  with  paternal  love  and  charity.  —  Rome,  21st 
July,  1495." 

,  It  is  useless  to  waste  words  in  discussing  the  sincerity 
of  this  document.  The  influences  under  which  it  had 
been  produced  were  too  well  known  in  Florence  for 
Savonarola  to  stand  in  doubt  of  it  for  a  moment.  Al- 
ready the  attempts  upon  his  life  had  begun.  Already 
his  enemies  had  been  heard  to  boast  that  they  had 
secured  the  ear  of  the  Pope.  It  was  therefore  clear 
to  his  friends  that  he  could  not  with  safety  accept  this 
affectionate  invitation ;  and  yet  the  Frate  was  far  from 
being   prepared    to    disobey   the    commands   of    the 


i 


f! 


n 


if: 


■II 


f'^ 


\  a 


\.i   i 


i 


f~ 


234 


SAVONAROLA. 


Supreme  Pontiff,  whom  he  regarded  as  the  Vicar  of 
Jesus  Christ. 

Happily  for  Savonarola,  he  was  able  to  plead  that 
he  was  only  recovering  from  a  severe  illness,  caused  by 
the  excitement  of  those  terrible  days  in  which  all  his 
energies  were  needed  for  the  guidance  of  his  anxious 
and  perplexed  fellow-citizens.  He  resolved  for  a  sea- 
son to  abstain  from  preaching,  and  to  put  his  friend 
Frk  Domenico  Buonvicini,  commonly  known  as  Do- 
menico  da  Pescia,  in  his  place.  On  the  28th  of  July, 
therefore,  he  took  his  leave  of  the  people,  telling  them 
that  although  for  the  moment  he  regained  his  strength 
when  he  ascended  the  pulpit,  he  was  unable  at  present 
to  continue  his  work.  He  repeated  to  them  many  of 
the  lessons  which  he  had  so  often  inculcated,  on  the 
necessity  of  moral  and  religious  renovation,  telling  them 
of  the  frightful  vices  which  still  prevailed  in  the  city. 
He  exhorted  them  to  a  more  serious  life,  reminding 
them  that  a  time  of  such  dangers  was  not  a  time  for 
festivals  and  dances.  Then  he  spoke  of  the  prophetic 
gift.  Again  he  besought  them  to  retain  the  form  of 
government  which  they  had  established,  and  said  that 
when  his  health  was  restored,  he  would  preach  to  them 
again,  although  he  believed  he  had  shortened  his  life 
by  his  past  efforts.  "  And  now,"  he  concludes,  "  you 
will  ask,  Frate,  what  reward  do  you  expect  for  this  ? 
I  expect  martyrdom.  I  am  content  to  endure  it.  I 
ask  it  of  Thee,  O  Lord,  every  day,  for  love  of  this 
city  I " 

Three  days  later,  he  sent  his  answer  to  the  Pope, 
beginning,  "Most  Blessed  Father,  after  kissing  thy 
blessed  feet,"  and  proceeding  to  set  forth  the  duty  of 
obedience  and  his  own  desire,  long  entertained,  to  visit 


POPE  ALEXANDER   VI.  AND  SAVONAROLA.    235 


Rome.  In  spite  of  this,  he  says,  he  is  forced  to  offer 
excuses  for  not  at  once  complying  with  the  Pope's  com- 
mand ;  and  he  quotes  the  language  of  Alexander  IV. 
as  showing  the  lawfulness  of  the  course  he  is  taking. 
As  a  reason  for  his  inability  to  come  to  Rome,  he 
urges  the  state  of  his  health,  weakened  by  unremitting 
toil  of  body  and  mind  in  behalf  of  the  city,  in  conse- 
quence of  which  his  physicians  had  advised  him  to 
abstain  from  preaching  and  study,  otherwise  his  life 
might  be  in  danger.  He  then  proceeds  to  inform  the 
Pope  that  his  presence  is  still  needed  in  Florence  in 
consequence  of  the  change  in  the  government  and  the 
designs  of  the  enemies  of  the  State,  which  were  pecu- 
liarly dangerous  while  the  institutions  of  the  republic 
were  still  in  their  infancy.  So  violent  indeed  were 
those  enemies  that  they  had  tried  to  cut  him  off  by 
poison  or  the  sword,  so  that  it  was  hardly  safe  for  him 
to  go  into  the  city  without  guards. 

He  then  goes  on  to  express  the  hope  that  his  Holi- 
ness would  not  be  offended  by  a  short  delay,  and  he 
would  endeavor,  before  long,  to  obey  his  command. 
If  his  Holiness  wished  in  the  mean  time  to  become 
acquainted  with  what  he  had  taught  concerning  the 
future,  of  the  scourging  of  Italy  and  the  renovation 
of  the  Church,  he  would  find  a  full  account  of  it  in  a 
book  which  he  had  just  caused  to  be  printed  {Com- 
pendium Revelationum) ,  *  which  he  had  put  forth  that 
the  world  might  know  ihat  he  was  a  false  prophet  if  the 
things  which  he  had  predicted  did  not  take  place.  "  I 
beseech  your  Holiness,"  he  concludes,  "  to  accept  my 
most  sincere  and  open  excuses,  and  to  believe  that 

1  Published  in  Italian  (Coinpendio  di  Revelatione,  etc.)  soon 
after,  —  Sept.  i,  1495.    ^  ^^^^  \i&t^  both  editions. 


h 


236 


SAVONAROLA, 


there  is  nothing  which  I  more  earnestly  desire  than 
to  render  entire  obedience."  The  Pope  gave  no  an- 
swer to  this  letter ;  but  as  Savonarola  afterwards  stated 
that  he  had  accepted  his  excuse,  we  may  infer  that  this 
assurance  was  in  some  manner  conveyed  to  him. 

To  his  astonishment,  during  the  period  of  his  retire- 
ment a  new  brief  was  issued  by  the  Pope,  and  this  time 
dirdcied  to  the  Franciscans  of  Santa  Croce,  the  ene- 
mies of  Savonarola,  speaking  of  him  as  "  a  certain  Frk 
Girolamo," — the  same  man,  be  it  observed,  who  had 
been  addressed,  not  two  months  before,  as  his  "  beloved 
son,"  —  denouncing  him  as  a  disseminator  of  false  doc- 
trine, and  commanding  him  at  once  to  appear  in  Rome. 
It  was  evident  that  this  was  intended  as  an  expression 
of  undisguised  anger  and  enmity ;  but  it  was  less  easy 
to  understand  the  sudden  change  of  tone.  It  may  be 
that  the  contents  of  the  Compendium  had  inflamed 
the  Pope's  mind,  but  it  is  more  probable  that  the 
change  had  been  brought  about  by  the  machinations 
of  the  Medici ;  for  it  was  at  this  time  that  Piero  was 
carrying  forward  his  attempt  to  regain  possession  of 
Florence.  Instead  of  obeying  the  Pope's  command, 
Savonarola  reappeared  in  the  pulpit  and  delivered 
those  sermons  already  mentioned,  in  which  he  besought 
his  fellow-citizens  to  resist  the  restoration  of  the  Medi- 
cean  despotism.  The  Pope  issued  another  brief,  for- 
bidding him  to  preach.  The  Frate  again  withdrew 
from  the  pulpit,  and  the  Advent  Sermons  at  the  cathe- 
dral were  preached  by  Fra  Domenico. 

The  charges  now  brought  against  Savonarola  were  the 
more  serious,  as  giving  an  authoritative  expression  to 
the  accusations  of  his  enemies  at  home.  But  he  knew 
that  the  charges  of  heresy  were  only  a  cloak  to  disguise 


IT  I 


r  1  ** 


POPE  ALEXANDER   l^I.  AND  SAVONAROLA.     237 


the  hatred  excited  by  his  political  action.  If  he  would 
have  refrained  from  denouncing  the  vices  of  those  who 
were  in  high  places ;  if  he  would  have  allowed,  without 
interference,  IJigi  or  Arrabbiati  to  have  their  own  way 
in  Florence  ;  if  he  would  have  suffered  the  overthrow  of 
that  civil  liberty  which,  next  to  the  moral  and  spiritual 
good  of  the  people,  he  most  ardenUy  loved,  —  he  might 
have  held  and  taught  what  opinions  he  pleased.  Al- 
though he  consented,  for  the  time,  to  observe  the  silence 
imposed  by  the  papal  brief,  —  and  at  this  time  he  was 
resolved  not  to  preach  until  he  obtained  permission  from 
Rome,  —  he  did  not  for  a  moment  waver  in  his  convic- 
tions, nor  in  his  determination  to  give  effect  to  them  in 
every  way  that  might  seem  possible  ard  lawful. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  an  incident  occurred  which 
has  been  recorded  by  several  writers.  Burlamacchi  re- 
lates that  a  terrible  sermon  preached  by  Savonarola  had 
inflamed  the  anger  of  a  number  of  private  persons  against 
the  preacher.  These  persons  were  chiefly  "  lukewarm 
ecclesiastics,  vicious  men,  usurers,  gamblers,  drunkards," 
and  the  like,  and  they  had  made  their  complaints  heard 
at  Rome.  Whatever  the  immediate  cause  may  have  been, 
it  is  said  that  the  Pope  sent  some  of  Savonarola's  writ- 
ings to  a  bishop  of  the  Dominican  order,  with  instruc- 
tions to  examine  them,  in  order  to  find  grounds  for 
condemning  the  author  as  guilty  of  heresy.  The  bishop 
returned  the  compositions,  giving  his  judgment  that  the 
utterances  of  the  Frate  were  all  good  and  wise,  inasmuch 
as  he  spoke  against  simony  and  the  corruption  of  the 
priests,  which  were  undoubtedly  very  great.  Such  a 
man,  he  said,  was  to  be  treated  as  a  friend,  and  not  as 
an  enemy,  and  he  advised  the  Pope  to  make  him  a 
cardinal. 


23^ 


SAVONAROLA. 


> 


't    : 


If  the  story  were  not  confirmed  by  a  multitude  of 
contemporaneous  testimonies,  it  might  appear  too  im- 
probable to  be  easily  believed.  The  evidence,  however, 
seems  too  strong  to  be  resisted  ;  and  additional  confir- 
mation is  found  in  various  indirect  references  to  the 
offer  in  the  sermons  of  Savonarola.  The  Pope  was  a 
statesman  of  consummate  ability,  and  acting  on  the  the- 
ory that  every  man  has  his  price,  he  probably  saw  in  this 
measure  a  more  easy  and  ready  escape  from  his  difficul- 
ties than  by  the  more  clumsy  and  violent  method  of  per- 
secution. A  Dominican  was  accordingly  despatched 
from  Rome,  empowered  to  offer  Savonarola  the  red 
hat,  on  the  condition  that  he  would  alter  his  style  of 
preaching. 

It  was  to  Savonarola  a  shocking  confirmation  of  all 
his  worst  impressions  of  the  state  of  matters  at  the  papal 
court.  Already  murmurs  had  been  heard  of  the  Pope 
having  obtained  his  chair  by  simony.  The  Cardinal  of 
San  Pietro  in  Vincoli,  the  same  who  was  in  the  way  of 
denouncing  his  Holiness  as  a  "  scoundrel  and  a  heretic," 
was  meditating  the  calling  of  a  council  to  try  Alexander 
for  this  crime ;  and  in  that  intention  he  was  supported 
by  some  of  the  princes  of  Europe.  Savonarola  was  prob- 
ably beginning  to  have  his  mind  familiarized  with  the 
same  idea.  And  here  he  had  tangible  proof  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  offices  of  the  Church  were  conferred 
so  as  to  subserve  the  corrupt  designs  of  the  Roman 
court.  He  was  so  indignant  at  the  offer  that  he  only 
returned  for  answer :  "  Come  to  my  next  sermon,  and 
you  shall  hear  my  reply  to  Rome." 

As  the  time  of  this  offer  is  not  quite  certain,  we  are 
unable  to  say  what  sermon  of  his  was  here  referred  to, 
nor  do  we  know  whether  it  has  been  preserved.     In  a 


I    V. 


all 


POPE  ALEXANDER   VI.  AND  SAVONAROLA.    239 

sermon  preached  in  the  year  1496  he  makes  an  evident 
aUusion  to  the  proposal :  '*  I  do  not  wish  for  hats,  nor 
for  mitres  great  or  small.  I  wish  only  for  that  which 
Thou  hast  given  to  Thy  saints,  for  death.  A  red  hat  — 
a  hat  red  with  blood  —  that  is  what  I  desire."  At  dif- 
ferent times  he  is  reported  as  saying,  "  If  I  had  wished 
for  dignities,  you  know  well  that  I  should  not  now  be 
wearing  this  ragged  cloak." 


By  the  influence  of  "the  Ten,"  — formerly  known  as 
the  "Ten  of  War,"  but  now  called  the  "Ten  of  Liberty 
and  Peace,"  —  the  Pope  had  been  induced  to  withdraw 
his  inhibition  from  Savonarola  and  to  restore  to  him 
the  liberty  of  preaching.  In  spite,  therefore,  of  the 
machinations  of  his  enemies,  and  of  the  constant 
attempts  against  his  life,  he  determined  this  year  (1496) 
to  preach  the  Lent  sermons  in  the  cathedral. 

The  news  of  his  reappearance  in  the  pulpit  after  his 
long  silence  (from  October,  1495,  ^^  February,  1496) 
produced  the  greatest  excitement  in  Florence,  and  all 
possible  precautions  were  taken  by  the  magistrates  to 
prevent  disorders  arising  in  the  city.  The  crowds  that 
assembled  to  hear  the  preacher  were  enormous ;  and  a 
new  element  appeared  in  the  audience.  This  was  a 
congregation  of  children,  for  whose  accommodation  a 
special  gallery  had  been  erected.  During  the  time  of 
his  retirement,  Savonarola  had  turned  his  attention  to 
the  instruction  of  those  who,  from  their  tender  years, 
were  more  open  to  the  reception  of  religious  impres- 
sions. He  was  specially  prompted  to  this  undertaking 
by  the  excesses  in  which  the  children  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  indulge  at  the  time  of  the  Carnival.  His  efforts 
had  such  success  that  he  organized  large  numbers  of 


H.  \ 


240 


SAVONAROLA. 


1 


.1 


i 


children,  formed  them  into  guilds,  and  instructed  them 
to  sing  hymns  instead  of  the  songs  which  had  formerly 
been  heard  at  that  season ;  and  instead  of  indulging 
in  mischievous  and  dangerous  amusements,  they  now 
employed  themselves  in  collecting  alms  for  the  relief 
of  the  poor.^ 

When  the  Frate  appeared  outside  th^  convent  on  his 
way  to  begin  his  Lent  sermons  (February  17,  1496),  he 
was  greeted  with  loud  shouts  cf  joy  by  the  populace ; 
and  his  enemies  were  held  in  check  alike  by  the  enthu- 
siasm of  his  friends  anH  the  watchfulness  of  the  govern- 
ment. It  was  one  of  the  significant  moments  in  his 
history.  Within  a  period  of  seven  months  he  had  been 
addressed  by  Rome  as  one  who  was  little  short  of  a  saint, 
and  denounced  as  a  seditious  person  and  a  disseminator 
of  heresy;  he  had  been  inr.ibited  from  preaching  by 
the  Pope,  and  the  inhibition  had  been  removed ;  and 
all  men  were  wondering  in  what  strain  he  would  break  the 
long  and  unwonted  silt  nee  to  which  he  had  submitted. 

He  began  his  sermon  -vith  a  dialogue,  in  which  he 
replied  to  imaginary  questions  respecting  his  absence 
frc^m  the  pulpit.  Had  he  been  afraid  of  death  that  he 
had  not  preached  ?  No ;  for  in  that  case  he  would  not 
be  here  now,  seeing  that  he  was  in  greater  peril  of  death 
than  before.  Had  he,  then,  had  scruples  of  conscience 
on  the  subject?  Not  he.  But  had  not  his  doctrines 
been  condemned?  Let  it  be  supposed  that  it  were  so  ; 
he  had  taken  himself  to  task,  as  to  his  life,  as  to  his 
words,  whether  he  had  spoken  unadvisedly  or  errone- 
ously ;  but  he  could  not  find  that  he  had  done  so,  — 

"  Because  I  have  always  believed,  and  do  believe,  all 
that  the  Holy  Roman  Church  believes.     I  have  written  to 

^  It  was  known  as  the  Riforma  del  fanciuUi. 


-♦« 


POPE  ALEXANDER   VI.  AND  SAVONAROLA.    24 1 


,  them 
rmerly 
lulging 
;y  now 
e  relief 

:  on  his 
96),  ^e 
pulace ; 
e  enthu- 
govern- 
s  in  his 
lad  been 
,f  a  saint, 
leminator 
ching  by 
^red;  and 
break  the 
Emitted, 
which  he 
absence 
h  that  he 
yould  not 
I  of  death 
lonscience 
doctrines 
were  so  ; 
as  to  his 
or  errone- 
so, — 

lelieve,  all 
written  to 


Rome  that  if  I  have  preached  or  written  anythii  g:  heretical, 
I  am  content  to  amend  and  recant  here  in  puolic,  I  am 
always  prepared  to  obey  the  Roman  Church,  and  i  say  that 
he  who  does  not  obey  will  be  damned.  ...  I  declare  and 
confess  that  the  Church  will  never  fail  even  to  the  day  of  judg- 
ment ;  and  that  it  may  be  clear  what  I  mean,  as  there  are 
various  opinions  as  to  what  is  the  Catholic  Churcli,  I  refer 
myself  to  Christ  and  to  the  decision  of  the  Roman  Church." 

But,  he  goes  on,  it  does  not  therefore  follow  that  we 
are  bound  to  obey  every  command  of  our  superiors,  or 
even  of  the  Pope.  A  superior  could  not  require  obe- 
dience contrary  to  the  constitution  of  his  order.  The 
Pope  could  have  no  right  to  give  a  command  contrary 
to  charity  or  to  the  Gospel.  "  I  do  not  believe  that  the 
Pope  will  ever  do  so ;  but  if  he  did,  I  should  say  to  him, 
*  In  this  case  thou  art  not  pastor,  thou  art  not  the 
Roman  Church,  thou  errest.*  "  If  a  superior  should  re- 
quire anything  contrary  to  the  commandments  of  God, 
it  would  be  wrong  to  comply,  because  it  is  written  :  "  We 
ought  to  obey  God  rather  than  man."  If  there  were 
the  least  doubt  on  the  subject,  however,  it  would  be  a 
duty  to  obey. 

He  then  proceeds  to  consider  his  own  case,  and 
argues  that  if  he  should  be  commanded  to  depart  from 
Florence,  he  should  not  be  bound  to  obey,  because  it 
was  well  known  that  not  only  would  such  a  command 
be  the  result  of  political  hatred,  but  obedience  would  be 
injurious  to  liberty  and  to  religion ;  and  if  he  saw  that 
his  departure  would  be  spiritual  and  temporal  ruin  to 
the  people,  he  would  obey  no  living  man  who  should 
command  him  to  depart. 

He  then  declares  that  having  found  nothing  in  his 
own  life  or  doctrine  at  variance  with  the  requirements 

16 


I 


SAVONAROLA. 


of  the  Church,  and  having  persuaded  himself  that  the 
briefs  from  Rome  were  null,  because  the)'  proceeded 
u'^  T  false  and  malicious  information,  he  had  neverthe- 
less decided  to  use  prudence,  and  had  therefore  obeyed 
by  observing  silence.  And  so  he  would  have  continued 
but  for  the  evils  which  he  had  seen  resulting  from  it. 
He  had  loved  peace  and  retirement,  but  he  had  been 
forced  to  put  forth  upon  a  tempestuous  sea  where  the 
winds  were  all  contrary. 

"I  should  wish  to  go  into  port,  but  I  cannot  find  the 
way ;  I  wish  to  seek  repose,  but  I  find  no  place  ;  I  should 
wish  to  remain  silent  and  not  speak,  but  T  cannot,  — because 
the  Word  of  God  in  my  heart  is  like  a  fire  which,  if  I  do 
not  send  it  forth,  burns  the  very  marrow  of  my  bones.  Now, 
O  Lord,  since  Thou  wiliest  that  I  should  sail  in  this  deep 
sea.  Thy  will  be  done  !  " 

This  sermon,  the  first  of  a  series  on  the  Books  of 
Amos  and  Zechariah,  gave  a  sketch  of  the  subjects  on 
which  he  intended  to  speak  throui,^hout  the  whole  season 
of  Lent.  It  would  appear  that  these  were  the  most 
powerful  and  impressive  sermons  of  all  that  he  preached 
at  Florence.  Nevr  had  he  spoken  with  more  perfect 
self-control,  judgment,  and  care  ;  and  yet  never  had  he 
lashed  the  vices  of  the  age  or  the  corruptions  of  Rome 
with  more  unsparing  severity.  Again  and  again  he 
warned  his  hearers  that  their  liberties  were  in  danger 
from  those  who  had  themselves  no  regard  to  the  honor 
of  God  or  the  well-being  of  His  people.  Their  enemies 
were  in  Florence,  they  were  in  Rome.  Their  daggers 
and  their  anathemas  were  being  prepared  for  him  who 
warned  the  people  of  their  danger.  But  the  judgments 
of  God  were  coming  upon  the  wicked.  There  would  be 
such  destruction  of  Hfe  that  there  would  not  be  people 


U 


POPE  ALEXANDER  VI.  AND  SAVONAROLA. 


243 


that  tlie 
roceeded 
neverthe- 
e  obeyed 
:ontinued 
;  from  it. 
had  been 
vhere  the 

)t  find  the 
;  I  should 
— because 
ich,  if  I  do 
nes.  Now, 
n  this  deep 

J  Books  of 
subjects  on 
liole  season 
the  most 
e  preached 
ore  perfect 
;ver  had  he 
i  of  Rome 
again  he 
in  danger 
the  honor 
:ir  enemies 
leir  daggers 
[or  him  who 
judgments 
e  would  be 
be  people 


enough  to  bury  the  dead.  The  pestilence  would  sweep 
them  away  in  such  iiumbers  that  they  would  have  to 
carry  them  away  on  carts  and  horses,  and  pile  them  in 
heaps  and  burn  them. 

"  Come  forth,"  he  cried,  quoting  the  prophet  Zecha- 
riah,  "  and  flee  from  the  land  of  the  North,  —  that  is, 
from  the  vices  of  the  world,  —  and  turn  to  Christ.  A  day 
of  darkness  is  coming.  It  will  rain  fire  and  flames  and 
stones,  and  it  will  be  a  time  of  trouble."  The  land  of 
the  North  was  Babylon,  and  the  preacher  could  not 
avoid  a  reference  to  the  city  which  he  always  spoke 
of  as  the  existing  representative  of  the  ancient  city  of 
confusion.  Taking  up  the  passage  of  the  prophet  from 
which  he  had  quoted,  he  proceeds  again :  — 

" '  Deliver  thyself,  O  Zion  that  dwellest  with  the  daugh- 
ter of  Babylon  ! '  Deliver  yourselves  from  it,  that  is>  from 
Rome ;  for  Babylon  means  confusion,  and  Rome  has  con- 
fused the  whole  Scripture,  has  confused  all  vices  together, 
has  confused  everything.  Flee,  then,  deliver  yourselves 
from  Rome,  and  turn  to  repentance ! " 

There  v;as  one  element,  however,  which  was  painfully 
present  in  the  sermons  of  this  period,  —  the  sense  that 
he  was  in  a  manner  placed  upon  his  trial  and  required 
to  defend  himself  from  the  accusations  of  heresy  and 
sedition.  He  was  not  less  bold,  less  fierce,  less  confi- 
dent in  his  denunciations  of  evil.  As  has  been  said, 
he  was  not  less  powerful  or  less  impressive  in  his  utter- 
ances. But  he  was  not,  as  in  former  days,  the  teacher, 
the  guide,  whose  truth  and  integrity  none  might  dare 
to  question,  although  they  might  desire  and  endeavor  to 
moderate  the  tone  of  his  warnings  and  rebukes.  His 
enemies  not  only  waxed  more  wroth  as  they  smarted 


flf^ 


ii'.il 


244 


SAVONAROLA. 


I    '} 


under  the  lash  of  his  terrible  words,  unveiling  vice  with 
a  plainness  which  we  can  now  hardly  imagine,  they 
were  also  able  to  arm  themselves  with  the  authority  of 
the  Church,  and  to  proceed  against  their  enemy  as 
against  one  who  was  seeking  to  destroy  the  very  fabric 
which  he  was  professing  to  defend.  They  forced  him 
into  a  position  in  which,  by  vindicating  his  conduct,  he 
necessarily  implied  the  presence  of  a  doubt ;  and  by 
excusing  his  action  he  seemed  to  be  accusing  himself. 

In  the  last  sermon  of  this  series  he  returns  to  the 
subject  of  his  dispute  with  the  Pope, — 

"  Who  does  not  know  that  the  brief  was  issued  to  sup)- 
port  my  enemies  and  those  of  the  republic  vv^ho  dissemi- 
nated falsehoods  and  calumnies  against  me  ?  Who  does 
not  know  that  my  departure  would  not  only  be  most  dan- 
gerous to  my  own  life,  but  also  injurious  to  this  people  and 
ruinous  to  its  liberty,  that  good  customs  would  be  aban< 
doned,  and  religion  come  to  the  ground  ?  It  is  this,  in- 
deed, that  my  enemies  desire.  I  therefore  believe  that  the 
Holy  Father  has  been  deceived  by  the  false  accusations  of 
my  detractors ;  and  I  obey  rather  that  which  I  believe  to 
have  been  his  intention,  and  will  not  suppose  that  he 
desires  the  ruin  of  a  whole  people." 

But  he  never  lost  sight  of  the  probable  end  of  the 
condict,  the  end  which  to  him,  indeed,  seemed  ever 
more  certain.  "  What  will  be  the  end  of  the  war  which 
thou  sustainest ? "  he  supposes  Lis  hearers  to  ask.  "If 
you  ask  me  in  general,  I  answer  that  it  will  be  victory ; 
if  you  ask  me  in  particular,  I  say,  to  die  and  to  be  cut 
in  pieces.  But  that  will  only  serve  to  spread  this  doc- 
trine more  widely,  which  does  not  come  from  me,  but 
from  God.  I  am  but  an  instrument  in  His  hand ;  where- 
fore I  am  resolved  to  do  battle  to  the  last." 


POPE  ALEXANDER  VI.  AND  SAVONAROLA.    245 


J  with 
they 
rity  of 
my  as 
fabric 
d  him 
net,  he 
md  by 
iself. 
to  the 


I  to  sup- 

dissemi- 

ho  does 

lost  dan- 

ople  and 

be  aban- 
this,  in- 

j  that  the 
ations  of 
lelieve  to 
that  he 

of  the 
led  ever 
kr  which 
Isk.    "If 

victory ; 

to  be  cut 
[this  doc- 

me,  but 

. ;  where- 


The  effects  of  these  Lent  sermons  were  of  the  most 
various  description.  The  partisans  of  the  Frate  were 
more  enthusiastic  in  the  expression  of  their  devotion 
than  ever.  On  Palm  Sunday  a  great  procession  was 
formed  in  celebration  of  the  blessings  received  during 
Lent;  and  Savonarola  himself  arranged  all  its  details 
with  the  greatest  care,  and  gave  direction  as  to  its  order. 
First  came  the  children,  then  the  religious  and  the 
clergy ;  next  came  the  magistrates,  then  the  men ;  then, 
a  little  distance  apart,  the  women,  the  aged  women  being 
first.  Those  who  were  unable  to  join  the  procession 
were  requested  to  keep  off  the  streets,  so  as  not  to  in- 
terrupt its  progress.  All  who  took  pr.rt  in  it  were  to 
carry  a  red  cross  or  a  branch  in  theii  hands,  and  the 
children  were  to  lead  an  ass  in  commemoration  of  our 
Lord's  entrance  on  that  day  into  Jerusalem. 

The  procession  started  from  the  church  of  the  Annun- 
ziata  and  proceeded  to  San  Marco,  where  each  one  re- 
ceived a  small  red  cross  ;  and  then  they  took  their  way 
across  the  city.  It  is  said  that  there  were  at  least  eight 
thousand  children  present.  On  the  Piazza  della  Signoria 
they  sang  a  hymn  composed  for  the  occasion  ;  then  they 
passed  on  to  the  cathedral  of  Santa  Maria  del  Fiore, 
and  so  returned  to  San  Marco ;  and  there  the  brethren, 
crowned  with  garlands,  danced  and  sang  hymns  in  honor 
of  the  Most  High. 

Savonarola  justified  these  things  by  quoting  the  exam- 
ple of  King  David,  who  danced  before  the  ark ;  but  it 
was  hardly  necessary,  in  those  days  and  in  that  country, 
to  justify  practices  which  to  us  seem  extraordinary  and 
misplaced.  The  Piagnoni  needed  no  justification,  the 
Arrabbiati  were  little  inclined  to  listen  to  it.  The  re- 
ligious enthusiasm  of  the  former  was  so  great  that  Savo- 


. 


it 

.5  ■i! 


m 


I . 


)     ^ 


f 


F^    i 


246 


SAVONAROLA. 


narola  himself  had  to  entreat  them  to  moderate  their 
zeal ;  but  the  wrath  of  his  enemies  reached  its  height. 
The  Compagnacci,  in  particular,  the  younger  and  more 
dissolute  of  the  Arrabbiati,  were  driven  to  frenzy  by 
beholding  the  influence  which  the  Frate  was  still  retain- 
ing over  the  people. 

But  the  fame  of  these  sermons  extended  far  beyond 
the  city  in  which  they  were  preached.  It  is  said  that 
tlie  Sultan  had  them  translated,  that  he  might  be  able  to 
read  them.  From  all  parts  of  Europe  there  came  testi- 
monies of  approval  and  adherence.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  princes  of  Italy  began  to  address  remonstrances  to 
the  man  who  seemed  to  include  them  all  in  one  general 
sweeping  condemnation.  Foremost  among  these  was 
Lodovico  of  Milan,  who  represented  to  Savonarola  his 
inability  to  understand  how  one  whose  life  was  so  pure 
and  Christian  should  bring  such  continual  accusations 
against  himself,  since  he  might  rather  find  fault  with 
Savonarola  for  teaching  that  the  Pope  ought  not  to  be 
obeyed.  Savonarola  did  not  hesitate  to  answer  this  ap- 
peal with  all  deference,  although  he  could  entertain  no 
real  respect  for  the  man  whom  he  regarded  as  the  author 
of  so  much  mischief  to  Italy. 

"It  is  not  true,"  he  replied,  "  that  I  have  ever  said  abso- 
lutely that  the  Pope  ought  not  to  be  obeyed,  because  this 
would  be  very  reprehensible,  and  contrary  to  those  sacred 
canons  according  to  which  I  have  always  governed  myself. 
And  so  too  it  is  a  false  accusation  to  say  that  I  have 
spoken  against  your  lordship.  I  am  affectionate  to  all,  and 
have  no  right  to  speak  against  any  one  in  particular.  But 
if  your  lordship  be  turned  to  God  in  that  mind  which  you 
declare  to  be  yours,  then  you  have  only  to  persevere ;  and 
in  this  matter  you  can  have  no  better  judge  than  your  own 
conscience." 


POPE  ALEXANDER   VI.  AND  SAVONAROLA.     247 


It  was  comparatively  easy  to  deal  with  II  Moro ;  but 
there  was  a  greater  Italian  potentate,  whose  anger  was 
more  to  be  feared  than  that  of  Sforza.  The  Pope,  who 
was  kept  informed  of  the  matter  of  Savonarola's  preach- 
ing, was  loud  in  his  accusations  to  the  Florentine  ambas- 
sador, complaining  not  merely  of  the  Frate,  but  of  the 
Signoria  who  allowed  him  to  preach.  The  Ten,  after 
endeavoring  in  vain  to  soothe  his  anger,  determined 
to  send  as  ambassador  extraordinary  Pandolfini,  the 
Archbishop  of  Pistoia.  On  his  arrival  the  Pope  poured 
out  complaints  against  the  Florentines  for  refusing  to 
join  the  holy  League  which  had  been  formed  "  to  drive 
the  barbarians  "  out  of  Italy ;  and  then  he  complained 
bitterly  of  the  support  given  to  Savonarola  in  his  attacks 
upon  the  Holy  See.  The  archbishop  said  that  the  Floren- 
tines could  not  possibly  have  violated  the  treaties  which 
they  had  made  with  the  French  j  and  besides,  they  were 
aware  of  the  enmity  entertained  by  the  Venetians  and 
the  Duke  of  Milan  against  the  republic.  With  regard  to 
Savonarola  they  could  hardly  be  to  blame,  seeing  that  his 
Holiness  had  given  him  leave  to  resume  his  preaching. 
"Well,  well,"  broke  in  the  Pope,  "we  need  not  speak  of 
Fra  Girolamo  at  present.  By  and  by,  perhaps,  we  shall 
speak  better  of  him.  As  for  the  rest,  you  give  me 
nothing  but  words.  You  want  to  have  two  strings  to 
your  bow."  ^ 

In  order  to  ascertain  whether  there  were  ostensible 
reasons  for  proceeding  against  Savonarola,  the  Pope 
appointed  a  consistory  of  fourteen  theologians  of  the 
Dominican  order,  to  whom  he  gave  instructions  to  in- 
quire into  the  conduct  and  teaching  of  the  Frate,  as 

1  Tenere  il  pie  in  due  staffe,  —  '*  To  have  your  foot  in  two 
stirrups." 


248 


SAVONAROLA. 


regarded  the  charges  of  heresy,  schism,  and  rebellion 
against  the  Holy  See.  It  is  said  that  the  majority  of  the 
consiscory  pronounced  him  guilty;  but  the  principal 
reason  which  they  alleged  was  his  enmity  to  Piero  de' 
Medici,  of  whose  misfortunes  he  had  been  the  princi- 
pal cause,  Tnere  could  hardly  have  been  a  more  con- 
vincing proof  of  the  truth  of  the  statement  made  in 
the  sermons  of  Savon?irola,  that  the  true  ground  of 
the  accusations  made  against  him  was  political,  and  not 
religious. 

It  has  been  raen'Ioned  as  a  proof  of  the  Pope's 
moderation,  although  there  may  have  been  other  reasons 
for  the  course  which  he  took,  that  he  acted  no  further 
on  the  report  of  the  theologians  than  to  request  the 
Signoria,  through  their  amb  issador  at  P^ome,  to  take 
care  that  in  future  Savonarola  should  be  more  guarded 
in  his  rcL.arks  on  the  Holy  See,  the  cardinals,  and  the 
prelates,  and  that  he  should  imitate  the  manner  of  the 
best  preachers,  and  not  intermeddle  with  the  things  of 
this  v*^orld  and  political  affairs. 

After  the  close  of  Lent  Savonarola  spent  a  short  time 
at  Prato  and  Pistoia,  where  he  met  his  brothers.  On 
his  return  to  Florence  he  put  forth  a  treatise  on  the 
"  Simplicity  of  the  Christian  Life,"  —  Delia  Semplicita 
della  vita  Cristiana,  —  which  was  intended  as  a  reply 
to  the  charges  brought  against  him  at  Rome,  and  in 
which  he  gave  a  popular  account  of  the  Catholic  faith, 
stripped  of  theological  techni'^lities,  and  rebutted  the 
charges  of  heresy  and  schism.  Along  with  the  J  itin 
original  an  Italian  translation  was  published,  with  a 
preface  in  which  he  repeated  his  willingness  to  submit 
to  the  authority  of  the  Roman  Church,  and  declared  that 
he  preached  and  wrote  with  the  sole  intentioii  ^f  com- 


-i'^ 


V      «!.L^ 


POPE  ALEXANDER   VI.  AND  SAVONAROLA.    249 


ebellion 
y  of  the 
>rincipal 
'iero  de' 

princi- 
3re  con- 
nade  in 
ound  of 

and  not 

;  Pope's 
r  reasons 
10  further 
luest  the 
,  to  take 

guarded 
,  and  the 
ler  of  the 

things  of 

ihort  time 
hers.    On 
e  on  the 
\emplicita 
a  reply 
and  in 
olic  faith, 
utted  the 
he  J  itin 
,  with   a 
Ito  submit 
lared  that 
X  ^f  com- 


bating the  unbelief  of  the  times,  which  chilled  the  spirit 
of  love  and  darkened  the  light  of  good  works. 

About  this  time  —  we  are  still  in  the  year  1496  —  new 
troubles  arose  in  Florence.  The  commerce  of  the  city 
had  been  greatly  depressed  by  the  unsettled  state  of  Italy 
and  of  the  republic ;  great  expenses  had  been  entailed 
by  the  exactions  of  the  French  and  the  preparations  for 
war  ;  and  a  grievous  famine  deprived  the  peasants  round 
about  the  city  of  their  means  of  subsistence.  The 
Venetians  and  Lodovico  were  assisting  the  Pisans,  who, 
instead  of  yielding  to  the  assaults  of  the  Florentines, 
striving  to  recover  their  most  prized  possession,  drove 
back  the  soldiers  of  the  republic  into  the  hills.  These 
misfortunes  were  followed  by  one  still  greater,  —  the  death 
of  Piero  Capponi,  which  took  place  in  the  September  of 
this  year.  He  was  killed  by  a  ball  while  conducting  the 
siege  of  the  castle  of  Soiana.  There  was  no  citizen  of 
whom  Florence  was  more  proud  than  of  him  who  had 
cast  back  on  the  king  of  France,  when  he  threatened  to 
blow  his  trumpets,  the  counter-threat  to  ring  the  bells  of 
the  city.  The  grief  was  universal ;  and  all  united  to  do 
honor  to  the  obsequies  of  so  great  a  man.  He  was 
buried  in  the  church  of  Santo  Spirito,  in  the  tomb 
which  had  been  made  for  his  renowned  ancestor,  Gino 
Capponi.^ 

Other  misfortunes  followed.  The  League  took  ad- 
vantage of  the  difficulties  of  the  republic  to  press  upon 
its  rulers  to  abandon  the  alliance  with  France,  and  to 
make  common  cause  with  themselves.  In  this  case  they 
would  assist  them  to  recover  Pisa ;  otherwise  they  would 

1  The  last  descendant  of  this  great  family  was  the  Marchese 
Gino  Capponi,  recently  deceased,  author  of  the  History  of  Flo- 
rence, more  than  once  quoted  in  these  pages. 


\v 


1 


\ 
i 


\:\ 


■I 


l;> 


ii 


250 


SAVONAROLA. 


give  assistance  to  the  revolted  city.  The  Arrabbiati 
were  all  in  favor  of  these  proposals;  but  the  citizens 
discerned  in  them  a  plot  for  the  overthrow  of  their 
liberty,  and  refused  to  comply.  Besides,  the  king  of 
France  had  announced  his  intention  of  returning  to 
Italy,  and  this  expectation  confirmed  them  in  their 
resolution. 

The  League  then  applied  to  the  Emperor  Maximilian 
for  assistance  in  opposing  the  threatened  invasion  of  the 
French ;  but  King  Charles  had  his  hands  full  at  home, 
and  abandoned  the  enterprise.  The  Emperor,  however, 
determined  to  visit  Italy,  which  was  in  theory,  at  least,  still 
the  centre  of  the  Empire.  Crossing  the  Alps,  he  avoided 
Milan  and  descended  upon  Genoa,  when  he  passed  on 
to  Spezia,  and  made  his  way  to  Pisa.  The  inhabitants 
received  him  v/ith  the  same  joyful  welcome  which  they 
had  accorded  to  the  French.  He  had  come  among 
them  as  the  friend  of  the  League,  and  therefore  as  the 
enemy  of  their  tyrannical  mistress,  Florence. 

The  Florentines,  seeing  the  preparations  which  were 
being  made  by  the  Pope,  the  Milanese,  and  the  Vene- 
tians, now  headed  by  the  Emperor  himself,  instead  of 
abandoning  themselves  to  despair,  proceeded  to  fortify 
Leghorn,  which  the  French  had  restored  to  them,  and 
which  now  became  the  key  of  Tuscany.  As  was  usual 
in  their  time  of  difficulty,  the  magistrates  had  recourse 
to  Savonarola,  who  did  not  hesitate  to  obey  the  call,  and 
again  appeared  before  the  people,  urging  them  to  unity 
and  to  courage  in  the  defence  of  their  liberties. 

The  most  dangerous  and  the  most  vindictive  of  the 
enemies  of  Florence  was  the  Pope.  He  hated  the  city 
and  its  freedom,  and  resolved  to  restore  the  Medici, 
whom  he  hoped  to  keep  in  subjection  to  his  own  will. 


!     L     ! 


! 


3  !i 


ill 


POPE  ALEXANDER   Vt.  AND  SAVONAROLA.     25 1 

Above  all,  he  hated  the  man  who  was  the  soul  of  the 
republic  and  the  bulwark  of  its  liberties.  If  the  armies 
of  the  League  could  not  demolish  the  walls  of  Florence, 
he  could  strike  at  the  man  who  alone  seemed  able  to 
inspire  its  defenders  with  courage  and  resolution.  He 
therefore  determined  to  use  every  means  to  prevent 
him  from  again  appearing  in  the  pulpit.  On  the  8th 
of  September  ^  he  despatched  a  new  brief  from  Rome, 
addressed  to  the  convent  of  St.  Mark,  in  which  he  de- 
scribed Savonarola  in  the  same  terms  as  those  which  he 
used  in  his  letter  to  the  friars  of  Santa  Croce  the  year 
before.  Again  he  was  described  as  "  a  certain  Fra  Giro- 
lamo,  a  friend  of  novelty  and  a  disseminator  of  false 
doctrine."  He  told  them  that  this  friar  had  advanced 
to  such  a  pitch  of  madness  that  he  had  made  the  people 
believe  that  he  was  sent  by  God  and  had  converse 
with  him ;  and  this  without  any  miraculous  proof  or  any 
special  testimony  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  such  as  the 
canon  law  required.  He  then  spoke  of  the  patience 
which  he  had  exercised  towards  Savonarola,  in  the 
hope  that  he  would  repent,  and  desist  from  continuing 
that  scandalous  separation  from  the  congregation  of 
Lombardy  which  he  had  been  deceived  into  sanctioning. 
He  then  required  that  the  brethren  of  St.  Mark  and 
their  vicar  should  recognize  the  authority  of  Frk  Sebas- 
tiano  de  Madiis,  Vicar-General  of  Lombardy  ;  command- 
ing Savonarola  to  prepare  to  go  where  he  should  be 
ordered,  and  in  the  mean  time  to  desist  from  all  preaching 
whatever,  either  public  or  private.  The  convent  of  St. 
Mark  was  to  be  at  once  reunited  to  the  congregation  of 
Lombardy,  and  Fra  Domenico,  Fr^  Salvestro,  and  Fra 

1  See,  in  Vilari,  the  reasons  for  assigning  this  date  to  the  brief 
here  described,  lib.  iii.  c.  5. 


'  1 


.il 


r 


\  , 


1 


;  i!  -'I 


352 


SAVONAROLA. 


t     V 


I     •. 


Tommaso  Bussino  were  to  present  themselves  in  nine  days 
at  Bologna.   And  all  this  under  pain  of  excommunication. 

It  was  quite  clear  to  Savonarola  that  these  orders 
could  not  be  obeyed ;  but  he  determined  to  try  what 
coultl  be  done  by  submission.  He  addressed  a  respect- 
ful letter  to  the  Pope,  dated  the  29th  of  September, 
about  the  time  that  Capponi  was  being  laid  in  the  tomb 
of  his  ancestor.  He  reiterated  his  willingness  to  submit 
to  the  Church,  saying  that  his  enemies  had  deceived 
his  Holiness.  I  He  denied  that  he  had  claimed  to  be  a 
prophet,  as  hehad  denied  it  nearly  two  years  before,  as 
he  was  to  deny  it  again  in  some  yet  more  solemn  hours 
of  his  life.  /  Even  if  he  had  put  forth  this  claim,  he 
said,  it  wmira  not  be  heresy  ;  but  he  had  only  predicted 
certain  events,  some  of  which  had  taken  place,  and 
others  would  in  the  future.  He  then  reminded  the  Pope 
that  the  bull  of  separation  had  been  solicited  by  all  the 
brothers,  and  had  been  granted  after  a  lengthened  dis- 
cussion. To  refer  their  cause  to  the  Vicar  of  Lombardy 
was  to  make  their  adversary  their  judge.  Besides,  since 
the  separation,  their  rules  had  been  made  more  strict 
and  severe,  and  therefore  to  reunite  them  would  be  to 
increase  the  enmity  already  existing,  and  to  give  rise  to 
great  dissensions  and  scandals.  There  was  no  reason 
for  this  reunion,  since  he  was  not  guilty  of  the  offences 
alleged  as  rendering  it  necessary,  seeing  that  he  preached 
the  doctrine  of  the  Church  and  of  the  holy  doctors ;  and 
he  repeated  anew  what  he  had  always  said,  that  he 
submitted  himself  and  all  his  doctrines  to  the  correction 
of  the  Holy  Roman  Church. 

The  Holy  Father  saw  that  by  going  too  far  he  might 
fail  in  the  main  object  of  his  brief,  which  was  to  prevent 
Savonarola  from  preaching.     He  therefore  appeared  to 


ne  days 
lication. 

orders 
try  what 
respect- 
)tember, 
he  tomb 
3  submit 
deceived 
I  to  be  a 
)efore,  as 
Tin  hours 
:laim,  he 
predicted 
ace,  and 
the  Pope 
by  all  the 
lened  dis- 
^ombardy 
des,  since 
lore  strict 

lid  be  to 
ive  rise  to 

lO  reason 
offences 

preached 

tors ;  and 
that  he 

;orrection 

I  he  might 
lo  prevent 
beared  to 


POPE  ALEXANDER   VI,   AND  SAVONAROLA.     253 

lay  aside  his  resentment,  and  on  the  i6th  of  October  he 
despatched  another  brief  addressed  to  Savonarola.  The 
Frate  was  again  his  "beloved  son."  He  begins  by  re- 
ferring to  the  mischief  caused  by  his  preaching  and  his 
pretensions  to  prophecy.  Still,  he  was  greatly  rejoiced 
to  learn  from  brethren  who  were  cardinals  of  the  Church, 
and  from  his  own  letters  and  messengers,  that  he  was 
prepared  to  submit  himself  to  the  judgment  of  the  Holy 
Roman  Church.  "  We  have  begun  to  persuade  our- 
selves that  thou  hast  not  preached  these  things  from  an 
evil  mind,  but  rather  from  a  kind  of  simplicity  and  a 
zeal  for  laboring  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord,  although 
experience  may  seem  to  teach  the  contrary."  But  for  all 
this,  he  adds,  he  must  not  be  so  negligent  as  to  dismiss 
the  matter  entirely,  and  therefore  he  commands  him, 
"  in  virtue  of  holy  obedience,  further  to  abstain  entirely 
from  all  preaching,  both  in  public  and  in  secret." 

Savonarola  was  not  in  the  least  deceived  by  this 
fatherly  forbearance,  knowing  very  well  that  the  Pope 
was,  by  a  different  path,  trying  to  reach  the  same  end, 
and  prevent  his  preaching  at  a  time  when  his  voice  was 
most  needed  by  the  citizens.  Besides,  he  learned  from 
the  ambassador  that  the  Pope  was  more  enraged  than 
ever  against  him ;  and  he  knew  that  he  was  acting  in 
concert  with  the  Emperor  and  II  Moro.  He  was  con- 
vinced that  an  attempt  would  be  made,  as  soon  as  there 
appeared  any  hope  of  success,  to  effect  the  restoration 
of  Piero  de*  Medici.  Yet  the  tone  of  the  Pope's  brief 
had  placed  him  in  a  difficulty.  To  defy  a  command 
addressed  in  a  spirit  so  benignant  might  bring  worse  evils 
upon  himself  and  the  city ;  and  therefore  he  determined 
for  a  season,  at  least,  to  refrain  from  preaching. 

In  the  mean  time  fresh  clouds  seemed  to  be  gather- 


i 


m 


V 


254 


SAVONAROLA. 


V\ 


ing  around  the  fortunes  of  the  republic.  Leghorn 
was  besieged  by  the  imperial  troops;  the  Venetian 
ships  blockaded  the  port,  so  the  provisions  could 
not  be  brought  into  the  city;  and  famine  and  pesti- 
lence were  making  terrible  ravages  among  the  inhabi- 
tants. The  Florentines  made  the  most  heroic  efforts 
to  relieve  the  suffering  city,  but  the  pestilence  began 
to  ravage  their  own  homes.  The  misery  of  the  city 
was  extreme.  The  Arrabbiati  were  triumphant ;  now 
they  were  clear  that  the  Frate  had  deceived  them. 
This  was  the  happiness  he  had  promised  to  Florence  ! 
Surely  it  was  time  to  change  a  government  which  had 
succeeded  so  badly. 

The  magistrates  in  this  extremity  had  recourse  to 
the  divine  offices.  They  ordered  that  a  miraculous 
image  of  the  Madonna,  to  which  they  had  frequent 
recourse  in  times  of  danger,  should  be  carried  in 
solemn  procession  through  the  city.  Again  they 
turned  to  the  only  man  who  had  been  able  to  help 
them  in  former  times  of  perplexity,  and  entreated 
Savonarola  to  speak  to  the  multitude.  It  needs  not 
to  be  told  how  his  compassionate  heart  had  bled  for 
the  miseries  of  the  people  whom,  with  all  their  faults, 
he  so  dearly  loved.  Whatever  might  be  his  fate,  he 
could  not  resist  the  appeal  which  was  now  addressed 
to  him. 

On  the  28th  of  October  he  was  again  in  the  pulpit. 
Friends  and  foes  were  gathered  around  nim.  He 
knew  what  was  passing  in  many  minds,  and  he  at  once 
addiessed  himself  to  the  unuttered  thought. 

"  I  ought  not  to  have  spoken  ?  But  I  come  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  Signoria,  and  to  call  you  once  more  to  re- 
pentance.     You  are  clear?    And  I  tell  you  that  I  am 


POPE  ALEXANDER   VI.  AND  SAVONAROLA.    255 

clear,  and  that  everything  I  have  said  to  you  will  be 
verified  to  the  smallest  iota.  ...  Be  ye  then  clear  that, 
unless  you  change  your  lif'i,  you  will  have  woes.  Vices 
still  prevail  among  you,  O  Florence,  —  gambling,  bestiality, 
—  and  in  this  way  you  draw  down  the  scourge  upon  you. 
Yet  if  you  return  to  the  Lord,  I  am  confident  that  some 
great  grace  will  be  bestowed  upon  us,  and  we  shall  have 
need  to  fear  no  one." 


He  then  rebuked  them  for  putting  their  trust  in 
man,  and  told  them  that,  first  of  all,  they  must  return 
to  God ;  then  they  must  put  away  all  thoughts  of 
human  help ;  all  the  money  they  could  spare  they 
must  lend  to  the  city,  and  without  interest ;  they  mu«t 
be  united  and  have  no  dissensions.  If  they  would  do 
this,  "  listen,"  he  said,  "  to  the  words  that  I  say  to  you  : 
I  am  willing  to  lose  my  head,  if  we  do  not  drive  away 
our  enemies.  I  say  that,  if  you  do  this,  I  will  be  the 
first  to  go  forth  against  them,  crucifix  in  hand,  and 
we  will  make  our  enemies  flee  as  far  as  Pisa,  and 
further."  Two  days  later,  the  miraculous  image  was 
carried  into  Florence  in  solemn  procession*  An 
enormous  multitude  followed,  showing  every  evidence 
of  the  deepest  devotion.  Sadness  was  on  every  coun- 
tenance. Money  was  freely  given  as  the  Frate  had 
required.  The  procession  had  reached  For  Santa 
Maria,  when  a  messenger  arrived  on  horseback  with 
an  olive-branch  in  his  hand,  on  his  way  to  the  Palazzo. 
Caught  by  the  bridle,  he  was  required  by  the  multitude 
to  deliver  his  message.  His  news  were  almost  in- 
credible. The  promised  succor  had  arrived  from 
Marseilles,  and  had  been  wafted  by  a  favorable  wind 
into  the  harbor  of  Leghorn,  before  the  Venetian  ships 
were  able  to  come  up.    Joy  sat  on  every  countenance, 


■ 


'  1:;; 


liJ' 


'I 


256 


SAVONAROLA, 


•    llf 


which  but  now  had  been  clouded  with  sorrow.  The 
intelligence  flew  from  mouth  to  mouth.  The  bells 
rang  out  peals  of  gladnes? ;  the  churches,  which  had 
but  recently  been  filled  with  multitudes  humbling 
themselves  in  penitence,  were  now  crowded  with  the 
same  multitudes  pouring  forth  their  joy  and  gratitude. 
Even  the  most  embittered  enemies  of  Savonarola  were 
silenced.  They  were  almost  ready  to  confess  that, 
for  once  at  least,  his  predictions  had  been  verified. 

Two  days  later,  on  the  festival  of  All  Saints, 
Savonarola  preached  again,  exhorting  the  people  to 
gratitude.  Surely  the  mercy  of  God  must  lead  them 
to  repentance  and  amendment.  Surely  they  would 
now  put  their  trust  in  God  alone.  At  the  same  time 
he  warned  them  against  the  transports  of  joy  to  which 
they  were  abandoning  themselves.  They  ought  not, 
he  said,  to  be  so  easily  overcome  by  joy  and  by 
sorrow.  The  next  day,  All  Souls*  Day  ("  the  day  of 
the  dead  "),  he  preached  on  the  way  to  die  well,  and 
produced  a  deep  impression  on  his  hearers.  He 
then  desisted  again  from  preaching.  He  had  obeyed 
the  call  of  duty;  but  he  would  not  further  give  his 
enemies  occasion  to  censure  him  for  disobedience. 

The  Pope  did  not  delay  for  a  moment  to  take 
further  action  against  the  man  who  was  resolved  ever 
to  cross  his  designs.  On  the  7th  of  November  a  new 
brief  was  issued,  addressed  to  all  the  Dominicans  of 
Tuscany.  Instead  of  reuniting  them  to  the  congrega- 
tion of  Lombardy,  the  Pope  now  proposed  to  form  a 
new  Tusco-Roman  congregation,  with  a  vicar  of  its 
own  who  should  be  elected  every  two  years  1 ,  the 
various  priors  of  ?^l:e  new  congregation,  without,  how- 
ever, derogating    from    the    authority  of   the    Vicar- 


POPE  ALEXANDER  VI.  AND  SAVONAROLA.    257 


The 

bells 

had 
ibling 
li  the 
itude. 
.  were 

that, 

• 

Saints, 
pie  to 
them 
would 
e  time 
I  which 
It  not, 
ind  by 
day  of 
ill,  and 
He 
|obeyed 
:ive  his 
e. 

o  take 
d  ever 
a  new 
leans  of 
|ngrega- 
form  a 
of  its 
II  ,    the 
:,  how- 
Vicar- 


General  at  Rome.  For  the  first  two  years  the  Pope 
would  himself  nominate  the  Cardinal  of  Naples,  who 
had  always  been  friendly  to  St.  Mark's  and  its  prior. 
The  Pope  had  outdone  himself  in  the  astuteness  of  his 
policy.  He  had  heard  Savonarola's  remonstrances ;  he 
would  not  unite  the  hostile  congregations.  He  would 
give  them  a  vicar  who  was  a  known  friend  of  their 
own.  But  thore  was  something  beyond  all  this.  Such 
a  scheme  would  annihilate  the  independence  of 
St.  Mark's,  and  render  Savonarola  dependent  upon 
the  new  vicar,  who  might  after  two  years  be  the  crea- 
ture of  his  adversaries. 

In  this  emergency  Savonarola  again  put  forth  a 
protest,  not  this  time  addressed  to  the  Pope,  but  to  the 
public  at  large.  In  this  pamphlet,  entitled  "  An  Apology 
for  the  Congregation  of  St.  Mark,"  he  declared  that  the 
proposed  union  was  "impossible,  unreasonable,  in- 
jurious." The  brothers  of  St.  Mark  should  not  be 
obliged  to  accept  it.  The  order  had  been  obtained  by 
false  accusations,  and  therefore  it  became  a  duty  to 
resist  a  command  which  was  contrary  to  charity.  "  When 
the  conscience  rejects  a  command  received  from  one's 
superiors,  it  is  necessary  first  to  resist  and  humbly  to 
correct  the  error ;  but  if  that  does  not  suffice,  it  is  then 
necessary  to  do  as  Saint  Paul  did,  who  *  withstood  Peter 
to  the  face  before  them  all.'"  There  could  be  no 
uncertainty  as  to  the  meaning  of  those  words.  The 
immediate  dangers  which  had  threatened  Leghorn  now 
passed  away.  The  Emperor  abandoned  his  under- 
taking against  Florence  and  returned  to  Germany,  com- 
plaining bitterly  of  the  untrustworthiness  of  his  allies. 
Savonarola,  apparently  abandoning  all  hope  of  a  recon- 
ciliation with  the  Pope,  again  ascended  the  pulpit  on 

17 


uii 


!« 


258 


SAVONAROLA. 


rti 


\S  ^ 


the  26th  of  November,  reminding  his  hearers  of  the 
dangers  through  which  they  had  passed,  and  of  the 
debt  of  gratitude  which  they  owed  to  their  Divine 
deHverer ;  showing  also  the  blessings  of  the  government 
which  they  enjoyed. 

He  now  commenced  his  sermons  on  the  prophet 
Ezekiel,  eight  of  which  were  preached  in  this  Advent, 
the  remainder  in  the  following  Lent  of  1497.  In  a 
prayer  uttered  in  the  course  of  his  first  sermon,  he  de- 
clared his  purpose  in  preaching.  "  O  Lord,"  he  said, 
"  I  ask  of  Thee  a  life  of  adversities.  I  begin  again  to 
preach  this  morning,  only  to  repeat  that  which  I  have 
already  said,  and  to  confirm  it  anew ;  and  I  am  willing 
here  to  lay  down  my  hfe."  Turning  to  the  people,  he 
said,  •*  If  I  depart  from  this,  say  that  this  brother  con- 
tradicts God  and  lies  in  his  throat,  and  stone  me  and 
cast  me  out  of  this  pulpit." 

In  this  strain  he  continued  throughout  the  season  of 
Advent,  repeating  the  lessons  of  religion  and  politics 
which  he  had  so  often  inculcated  before.  The  year 
ended  with  increased  power  and  popularity  to  the  Frate, 
but  also  with  multiplied  dangers.  Henceforth  the 
struggle  with  the  Pope  waa  to  be  looked  upon  as  un- 
ending. Did  the  Frate  hope  that  the  wished-for  council 
might  meet,  and  Alexander  be  deposed,  and  a  better 
take  his  place,  and  the  Church  be  renovated  ?  It  may 
be  so.  But  it  is  equally  certain  that  he  saw  clearly 
enough  the  other  alternative;  and  the  prospect  of  a 
violent  death  was  now  seldom  absent  from  his  mind. 


!    t 


of  the 

of  the 

Divine 

ernment 

prophet 
Advent, 

7.     In  a 

a,  he  de- 
he  said, 

I  again  to 

h  I  have 

im  willing 

)eople,  he      ' 

)ther  con- 

le  me  and 

;  season  of 
id  politics 
The  year 
the  Frate, 
forth   the 
on  as  un- 
|for  council 
a  better 
?    It  may 
Lw  clearly 
ipect  of  a 
mind. 


TUB  BURNING  OP   THE  "  VANITIES. 


259 


CHAPTER  XV. 


» 


THE     BURNING   OF  THE   "VANITIES. 

In  his  recent  conflict  with  the  Pope,  Savonarola  had 
received  his  chief  support  from  the  Ten,  although  it  is 
apparent  that  the  Signoria  had  woX.  been  hostile  to  him, 
and  had  not  failed  to  use  his  influence  with  the  people 
when  the  necessities  of  the  republic  seemed  to  require 
it.  It  was  an  evidence  of  the  position  which  he  now 
held  among  the  citizens,  obtained  by  his  labors  and  the 
effect  produced  by  the  marvellous  relief  of  Leghorn, 
that  in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1497  ^  Signoria  de- 
voted to  his  interest  was  elected,  and  Francesco  Valori 
was  appointed  gonfaloniere.  l' 

This  is  that  Francesco  Valori  of  whom  we  have  heard 
as  at  first  a  supporter  of  the  Medici,  and  one  of  the  five 
citizens  sent  by  Lorenzo  to  restrain  the  Frate  in  his  style 
of  preaching,  —  the  same  who  afterwards  became  one 
of  the  foremost  opponents  of  the  dominant  family  when 
they  were  driven  from  Florence,  and  one  of  the  most 
faithful  and  attached  friends  of  Savonarola.  He  was  a 
man  of  undoubted  courage  ;  and  if  his  discretion  had 
equalled  his  bravery,  he  might  have  used  this  opportu- 
nity to  repress  the  dissensions  which  were  rending  the 
city. 

Savonarola  suggested  that  the  constitution  ot  the 
greater  council  should  be  so  modified  as  to  exclude  tliose 


1 


l\ 


w. 


.t 


I: 


260 


SAVONAROLA. 


:  \ 


» 

I  > 


U  ^ 


iM 


t  I  ! 


who  plotted  against  the  repubUc.  Valori  thought  the 
best  manner  of  guarding  against  such  danger  was  to 
secure  a  larger  representation  of  the  people ;  and  for 
this  purpose  he  reduced  the  age  at  which  those  other- 
wise qualified  for  election  might  be  admitted  into  the 
council,  from  thirty  to  twenty-four.  His  object  was,  of 
course,  to  counteract  the  influence  of  the  aristocratic 
party,  who  were  the  most  dangerous  enemies  of  the 
constitution  ;  but  the  actual  effect  of  the  measure  was  to 
introduce  the  younger  members  of  the  Arrabbiati,  who 
have  already  been  mentioned  as  the  most  violently 
opposed  to  the  teaching  and  the  policy  of  Savonarola. 

There  can  be  little  doubt,  in  these  days,  that  the  great 
mistake  which  was  made  by  Savonarola  was  the  atten  pt 
to  repress  every  kind  of  immorality,  and  those  amuse- 
ments which  he  regarded  as  productive  of  immorality, 
by  physical  force  and  by  the  arm  of  the  law.  It  would 
be  utterly  false  to  describe  him  as  of  a  persecuting  or 
intolerant  spirit;  but  the  horror  inspired  in  his  mind, 
from  his  earliest  years,  by  the  frightful  immorality  which 
he  saw  prevailing  everywhere,  led  him  to  imagine  that 
only  the  strongest  measures  could  be  effective  and 
successful. 

In  his  opinions  on  these  subjects  he  was  neither 
better  nor  worse  than  his  best  contemporaries.  At  that 
time,  and  for  long  afterwards,  it  was  thought  right  and 
expedient  to  repress  by  law  whatever  was  regarded  as 
hurtful  to  the  community.  On  this  ground  heresy  was 
punished,  and  customs  which  seemed  in  any  way  dan- 
gerous to  the  social,  the  moral,  or  the  religious  interests 
of  a  country.  Those  who  suffered  from  what  they  re- 
garded as  persecution  were  themselves  ready  to  persecute 
when  their  turn  arrived  to  wield  the  power  of  the  sword. 


b  i\ 


11 


THE  BURNING  OF  THE  "  VANITIES.'' 


261 


rht  the 

was  to 

and  for 

2  other- 
nto  the 
was,  of 
stocratic 

3  of  the 
e  was  to 
iati,  who 
violently 
narola. 
the  great 
t  atterr  pt 
,e  amu5e- 
imorality, 

It  would 

icutmg  or 

his  mind, 

lity  which 

Lgine  that 

:tive    and 

is  neither 
At  that 
I  right  and 
warded  as 
leresy  was 
I  way  dan- 
Is  interests 
\\  they  re- 
]  persecute 
the  sword. 


In  the  English  Puritan  revolution  these  principles  were 
the  source  of  the  unity  and  strength  of  the  party  which 
then  came  into  power.  They  were  resolved  to  set  up 
the  kingdom  of  God  upon  earth,  and  they  carried  out 
their  resolution  with  the  Word  in  their  mouths  and  a 
two-edged  sword  in  their  hands.  Their  enemies  can 
hardly  deny  that  this  was  their  original  intention,  how- 
ever they  may  accuse  them  of  a  glowing  lust  of  power, 
of  unreality  and  hypocrisy.  In  a  world  like  this,  and  with 
creatures  like  ourselves,  such  efforts  must  fail.  We  have 
now  discovered  that  it  must  be  so.  We  have  learned 
that  to  paralyse  personal  liberty,  beyond  what  is  required 
for  the  protection  of  others,  is  to  induce  evils  far  greater 
than  any  which  we  are  able  to  repress.  To  put  a  stop  to 
dl  amusements  is  to  drive  those  who  will  have  them  to 
deception,  and  is  very  likely  to  engender  vices  as  base, 
because  more  morbid,  than  those  which  are  exterminated. 
We  have  learned  that,  to  a  great  extent,  we  must  leave  it 
to  the  individual  conscience  to  decide  whether  an  amuse- 
ment is  innocent  or  hurtful.  That  Savonarola  did  not 
grasp  these  principles  was  nothing  wonderful  or  discredit- 
able ;  they  did  not  belong  to  his  time.  Holding  that  vice 
should  not  be  tolerated,  and  holding  this  conviction  in  a 
most  vicious  age,  he  went  to  war  with  the  overwhelming 
majority  of  his  countrymen.  It  was  clear  to  himself 
that  they  must  be  converted,  or  he  must  perish.  He 
would  not,  he  t  ould  not,  abandoii  his  design ;  and  he 
saw  with  ever-increasing  clearness,  with  ever-deepening 
sorrow,  what  the  end  must  be. 

The  prohibition  of  balls  and  festivals  enraged  the 
younger  members  of  the  Arrabbiati  beyond  all  power  of 
self-control.  To  them  life  without  pleasure  was  insup- 
portable, and  the  Frate  was  resolved  that  they  should  not 


.  i .'  \ 


u  ♦ 


I' ! 


262 


SAVONAROLA. 


have  their  pleasures  in  their  own  evil  way.  In  order  to 
carry  on  the  contest  with  greater  unity  and  vigor,  they 
formed  themselves  into  companies,  and  placed  at  their 
head  one  of  their  own  number  named  Dolfo  or  Dofifo 
Spini.  These  companies  went  about  armed,  and  com- 
mitted assaults  on  the  Piagnoni  as  tliey  had  opportunity. 
From  their  organization  they  were  called  Compagnacci. 
Many  of  these  )oung  men,  who  had  had  only  ar  in 
direc  u  fiuei;>i,':  o  >  the  government,  now  became  mem- 
bers C)    tlv;     -'reater  council,  and  consequently  more 


dangjro  i     thai?   ever. 


About  the  bci^-.^ning  of  this  year  Savonarola  was 
anxiously  occupied  in  preparing  for  publication  that 
which  was  perhaps  his  most  famous  composition,  "  The 
Triumph  of  the  Cross."  In  this  way  he  was  withdrawn 
from  his  more  active  labors  among  those  who  were  under 
his  spiritual  guidance.  His  deputy  at  such  times, 
whether  in  the  pulpit  or  as  an  administrator  of  the  affairs 
of  the  convent,  was  ordinarily  Fra  Domenico.  This 
brother  had  preached  in  his  place  when  the  strife  with 
Rome  had  first  begun.  It  is  said  that  he  was  but  a 
feeble  echo  of  his  great  master  ;  but  he  was  a  true  echo, 
and  a  faithful  and  devoted  friend.  He  had  the  most 
unswerving  faith  in  his  superior.  He  knew  him  for  a 
man  of  God,  a  man  who  lived  above  this  world,  its  cares 
and  its  interests.  He  saw  how  deeply  he  was  himself 
penetrated  by  those  convictions  to  which  he  gave  such 
eloquent  and  powerful  utterance.  He  went  beyond  his 
master  in  thinking  that  he  was  endowed  with  miraculous 
powers,  as  well  as  with  prophetic  gifts.  If  he  was  too 
credulous,  this  fault  may  easily  be  forgiven  when  his 
subhme  devotion  is  remembered,  —  a  devotion  which 
became   touching  and  heroic  at  the  end. 


THE  BURNING  OF   THE  "  VANITIES:' 


263 


der  to 
r,  they 
It  their 
:Doffo 
\  com- 
rtunity. 
ignaccu 
ar  in 
e  metn- 
^  more 

ola  was 
on  that 
\,  "  The 
thdrawn 
re  under 
1   times, 
he  affairs 
This 
;rifG  with 
.s  but  a 
lue  echo, 
[he  most 
>m  for  a 
its  cares 
himself 
Lve  such 
ond  his 
raculous 
was  too 
hen  his 
m  which 


As  the  time  of  the  Carnival  drew  near,  it  became 
clear  that  the  Compagnacci  were  determined  that  it 
should  be  celebnited  as  in  the  ('lys  of  the  Medici. 
The  songs  of  Lorenzo  should  be  sung,  the  indecent 
dances  should  be  danc  !,  the  games  should  be  re- 
sumed, and  everything,  down  to  the  most  irrational 
of  their  old  practices,^  should  be  as  it  had  been  before 
the  P'\,noni  had  interrupted  their  pleasures.  To 
Frk  Domenico  had  been  given  the  training  of  the 
children  who  had  played  a  part  so  important  in  the 
previous  Carnival.  When  he  knew  of  the  preparations 
of  the  Compagnacci,  he  determined  to  meet  then;  <,v'th 
preparations  of  his  own.  Day  after  day  he  drilkd  b  ;, 
youthful  bands,  preached  sermons  to  them,  an!  "iOt<^ 
them  letters.  By  means  of  new  laws,  passe  wv  he 
friendly  Signoria,  he  carried  out  the  reforr-as  which 
Savonarola  had  commenced  in  the  preceding  y.  t. 

It  was  determined  to  make  an  onslaught  more 
thorough  a. id  sweeping  on  the  luxurious  and  lascivious 
manners  and  customs  of  the  people,  and  especially  of 
the  women.  The  children  scoured  the  town,  and 
knocking  at  the  doors  of  the  rich,  asked  to  have  given 
up  to  them  the  things  which  they  h?  J  been  taught  to 
designate  as  vanities  {vanitd)  or  anathema.  Every- 
thing which  ministered  to  luxury,  everything  which 
tended  to  immorality,  was  to  be  given  up,  —  masks, 
dresses  with  immodest  figures  upon  them,  musical 
instruments,  books  containing  indecent  or  immoral 
tales.  It  was  determined,  by  a  solemn  and  public 
auto-da-fe,  to  declare  before  the  world  that  Christ  was 

1  Such  as  the  throwing  of  stones  by  the  children  of  the  city, 
—  one  of  those  absurd  and  dangero.is  practices  which  Savo- 
narola had  stopped  when  he  organized  his  bands  of  children. 


S  I 


264 


SAVONAROLA. 


f 


I, 


i 
»■  ( 


i 


1 


I     f 


King  of  Florence,  and  these  things   should  not  be 
allowed  to  defile  His  kingdom. 

To  whatever  extent  the  will  of  Savonarola  may 
have  have  been  resisted  during  the  Carnival,  all  were 
prepared,  when  its  last  day  arrived,  February  7th, 
to  think  of  nothing  but  the  religious  festival  which 
was  being  prepared.  Burlamacchi  gives  a  detailed 
account  of  the  proceedings  of  the  day.  In  the  morn- 
ing multitudes  of  men  and  women  received  the  com- 
munion from  the  hand  of  Savonarola.  At  two  o'clock 
they  came  together  and  formed  a  solemn  procession, 
which  was  to  traverse  the  streets,  finishing  at  the  Piazza 
della  Signoria,  where  the  great  event  of  the  day  was  to 
take  place.  Here  is  Burlamacchi's  description  of  the 
scene :  — 

"  In  the  procession  the  boys  carried  a  bambino  [he 
says  it  was  devotissimo],  full  of  splendor,  which  gave  the 
benediction  with  the  right  hand,  and  with  the  left  held 
out  the  crown  of  thorns,  the  nails,  and  the  cross;  it  was 
of  stupendous  beauty,  being  the  work  of  that  most  rare 
sculptor  Donatello.  This  was  supported  by  four  most 
beautiful  angels  upon  a  portable  altar,  very  rich  and  wonder- 
fully adorned,  and  over  it  a  most  beautiful  baldacchino  was 
supported  by  twelve  children.  Around  these  were  other 
children,  who  sang  psalms  and  hymns  with  sweetest 
melody.  Before  went  the  other  children,  walking  two  and 
two  in  order.  Behind  came  the  guardians  with  their 
officials,  men  who  bore  silver  vessels  to  receive  alms  for 
the  poor  of  St.  Martin,  who  received  more  in  that  day 
than  they  ordinarily  did  in  a  whole  year.  Behind  these 
came  the  men  with  small  red  crosses  in  their  hands. 
Last  of  all  came  the  girls  and  all  the  other  women." 

They  took  their  way  first  to  the  Duomo,  where 
they  sang  "the  most    beautiful    lauds,"   and  all  the 


)  111 


THE  BURNING  OF   THE  "  VANITIES:' 


265 


people  made  an  ofTering  of  Florence  to  the  Queen  of 
Heaven.  They  then  proceeded  to  the  Piazza,  where 
complete  preparations  had  been  made  for  the  work 
they  had  in  hand.  A  huge  bonfire  had  been  erected 
in  the  centre  of  the  square,  in  the  shape  of  an  eight- 
sided  pyramid,  which  rose  to  the  height  of  thirty 
braccia,  or  sixty  feet,  and  measured  at  its  base  one 
hundred  and  twenty  braccia,  or  two  hundred  and  forty 
feet.  Each  side  had  fifteen  steps,  upon  which  were 
deposited  all  the  vanitd  collected  during  the  Carnival ; 
and  a  huge  image  surmounted  the  pyramid,  which  was 
filled  with  inflammable  materials.  Each  of  the  eight 
sides  had  objects  arranged  with  some  attempt  at 
classification.  On  the  first  were  dresses  with  immodest 
figures;  on  the  second,  pictures  of  the  beauties  of 
Florence ;  on  another,  chess-boards  and  cards ;  on 
another,  music,  harps,  lutes,  guitars ;  on  another,  the 
vanitd,  worn  by  women,  —  false  hair,  phials,  looking- 
glasses,  perfumes ;  on  another,  lascivious  books  written 
by  Latin  and  Italian  poets,  among  them  Boccaccio  and 
others;  on  another,  masks,  beards,  and  other  orna- 
ments used  in  the  Carnival ;  finally,  pictures  and 
sculptures  in  ivory  and  alabaster. 

The  Piazza  was  crowded  with  people,  and  the 
children  were  arranged  on  the  Ringhiera  and  under 
the  Loggia  dei  Lanzi,  where  they  kept  singing  re- 
ligious songs  and  denouncing  the  Carnival.  At  a 
signal  given,  the  four  guardians  set  fire  to  four  corners 
of  the  pyramid,  the  smoke  and  flames  leapt  up  into 
the  air,  the  trumpeters  of  the  Signoria  blew  a  blast, 
the  bells  of  the  Palazzo  rang  out,  and  the  multitude 
raised  a  shout  of  rejoicing. 

We  can  imagine  that  these  transactions  were  regarded 


I 


■ii 


I  5 


<l 


r  f% 


in  ( 


366 


SAVONAROLA. 


with  very  different  emotions  by  the  onlookers.  Doubt- 
less there  were  many  who  heartily  participated  in  the 
religious  enthusiasm  which  had  been  evoked  l)y  Savona- 
rola, —  many  who  now,  as  in  the  former  Carnival,  freely 
gave  up  useless  ornaments  to  be  disposed  of  for  the 
benefit  of  the  poor  ;  many,  too,  who  burned  "  with  sacred 
rage  "  those  things  which,  in  their  past  life,  had  minis- 
tered to  their  lusts.  But  there  were  others  who  regarded 
the  scene  with  very  different  feelings,  —  some  who  had 
parted  with  their  vanities  from  fear  of  those  terrible  chil- 
dren who  went  in  bands  to  execute  the  will  of  the  Frate  ; 
some,  probably,  who  had  utterly  refused  to  give  them 
up.  To  very  many  these  young  tyrants  must  have  ap- 
peared in  the  light  of  a  simple  nuisance.  Burlamacchi 
relates,  with  a  gravity  bordering  upon  the  ludicrous, 
that  "notwithstanding,  these  good  children  endured  a 
most  cruel  persecution  from  ill-disposed  and  lukewarm 
men,  which  they  bore  with  great  serenity  of  mind,  and 
with  so  much  joy  that  they  filled  every  one  with  as- 
tonishment, and  seemed  nothing  less  than  angels  of 
Paradise." 

It  is  impossible  to  form  a  judgment  on  an  event  which 
happened  in  times  so  different  from  our  own  and  in  a 
season  of  such  intense  religious  excitement.  Those  who 
consider  all  the  circumstances  and  the  customs  of  the 
people  among  whom  it  took  place  will  probably  experi- 
ence no  great  astonishment  If  we  could  enter  more 
fully  into  the  feelings  of  that  day  we  might  be  led  to 
understand  that  it  was  a  spectacle  in  no  small  degree 
calculated  to  produce  a  wholesome  effect  upon  those  by 
whom  it  was  witnessed.  The  greatest  danger  was,  per- 
haps, that  it  might  be  drawn  into  a  precedent ;  and  we 
shall  see  that  a  similar  "  burning  "  took  place  at  the  next 


THE  BURNING  OP   THE  «'  VANITILS: 


267 


Carnival.  It  is  a  remarkable  fnct,  however,  that  none 
of  the  contemporaries  of  Savonarola  should  hav<.'  brought 
this  forward  among  the  offences  charged  against  iiim. 

The  demonstration  has  not  fared  so  wtil  at  the  hands 
of  more  recent  writers.  Savonarola  has  been  denounced 
as  a  Vandal,  a  barbarian  who  had  destroyed  anticiuities 
and  curiosities  of  priceless  value ;  he  has  been  repre- 
sented as  an  ignorant  and  bHnded  fanatic,  who  looked 
upon  literature  and  art  with  contempt  and  detestation. 

It  is  very  possible  —  it  is  indeed  probable  —  that  Bur- 
lamacchi,  who  looks  back  upon  these  days  with  all  the 
delight  of  an  ascetic,  with  all  the  satisfaction  of  a  reli- 
gious who  knew  that  his  own  order  had  made  a  holo- 
caust of  the  vanities  of  the  age,  was  guilty  of  unconscious 
exaggeration.  For  instance,  he  represents  the  number 
of  children  present  as  being  nearly  equal  to  the  whole 
population  of  Florence.  He  speaks  of  a  Venetian  mer- 
chant as  offering  an  incredible  sum  of  money  for  the 
vanitd,  which  were  consumed  in  the  fire.  But  there  is 
no  doubt  that  there  was  a  considerable  destruction  of 
costly  dresses,  ornaments,  and  books ;  and  in  judging 
Savonarola  we  must  have  regard  to  his  motives  and  to 
the  state  of  the  society  to  which  he  belonged. 

If  the  auto-da-fe  had  been  meant  as  a  condemnation 
of  all  poetry,  the  Frate  might  plead  that  he  had  at  least 
the  favorite  author  of  the  new  literary  school  on  his  side  ; 
for  Plato  could  find  no  place  for  poets  in  his  ideal  re- 
public. But  there  is  no  foundation  for  such  a  charge. 
From  his  youth  he  had  himself  written  hymns  and 
poems,  nd  had  procured  hymns  to  be  composed  for 
the  Carni\.il,  to  be  sung  in  place  of  the  old  lascivious 
songs. 

If  it  be  charged  against  him  that  he  caused  to  be 


V  '< 


I    ,  ( 


268 


SAi^ONAROLA. 


.i', 


I  ! 


burned  the  works  of  Boccaccio,  one  of  the  most  elegant 
of  Italian  prose  writers,  we  need  not  urge  the  somewhat 
unfavorable  literary  judgment  pronounced  on  Boccaccio 
by  the  late  Gino  Capponi.  It  is  certain  that  Savonarola, 
in  this  case,  thought  little  of  the  literary  merits  or  de- 
merits of  the  books  which  he  prepared  for  the  flames. 
It  may  be  more  to  the  point  to  ask  whether  his  accusers 
would  like  to  have  Boccaccio  as  the  favorite  author  in 
the  libraries  of  their  daughters,  or  whether  they  would 
tolerate  the  reading  of  the  Decamerone  in  their  families. 
It  is  said  that  it  was  one  of  the  favorite  books  of  the 
nuns  at  this  period ;  and  it  is  not  to  be  believed  that 
it  tended  to  improve  the  moral  purity  of  the  convents. 
Savonarola  was  often  wellnigh  maddened  by  the  thought 
of  the  foul  and  bestial  streams  of  sensuahty  which  were 
flowing  through  this  fair  city,  almost  under  his  eyes  ;  and 
the  burning  of  every  indecent  volume  in  the  world  would 
have  seemed  to  him  a  small  price  to  pay  for  the  salva- 
tion of  one  human  soul,  for  the  rescuing  of  some  of  those 
little  ones  whom  he  was  striving  to  protect  from  the  evil 
that  was  in  the  world,  from  the  moral  contamination 
which  was  prevailing  everywhere,  and  which  it  seemed 
almost  impossible  to  escape.  Was  Savonarola  the  only 
reformer  who  ever  burned  indecent  books?  History 
tells  us  of  some  who  burned  heretical  men.  To  our- 
selves it  may  seem  unwise  and  impolitic  to  make  this 
display  of  our  condemnation  ;  but  there  are  others,  and 
those  men  not  destitute  of  learning  and  piety,  who  think 
such  an  exhibition  may  be  edifying.  Little  more  than 
a  generation  has  elapsed  since  a  book  directed  against 
divine  revelation  was  burned  in  the  hall  of  a  college  in 
one  of  our  great  universities,  and  this  in  the  middle  of 
the  nineteenth  century ;  but  what  danger  has  existed  in 


THE  3URNING  OP  THE    «  VANITIES:' 


269 


elegant 
newhat 
:caccio 
)narola, 
or  de- 
flames, 
iccusers 
ithor  in 
^  would 
families, 
i  of  the 
zed  that 
onvents. 
thought 
ich  were 
es ;  and 
Id  would 
he  salva- 
I  of  those 
1  the  evil 
ruination 
seemed 
the  only 
History 
To  our- 
ake  this 
lers,  and 
ho  think 
Dre  than 
against 
>llege  in 
iddle  of 
isted  in 


the  Oxford  of  these  days  which  could  for  a  moment  be 
compared  with  the  condition  of  Florence  at  the  end  of 
the  fifteenth  century? 

An  interesting  proof  was  given  this  very  year  that 
Savonarola  was  not  to  be  classed  with  the  fanatic  who 
burned  the  Alexandrian  library,  on  the  principle  that  it 
could  be  of  no  value  because  all  that  was  good  in  it 
must  be  contained  in  the  Koran,  and  that  which  was 
contrary  to  the  Mahometan  Bible  must  be  mischievous. 
In  consequence  of  the  financial  straits  of  the  republic, 
it  became  necessary  to  dispose  of  the  library  of  the  Me- 
dici, which  had  become  the  property  of  the  State  when 
the  family  had  been  declared  rebels  and  their  goods 
confiscated.  There  was  great  danger  that  this  magnifi- 
cent collection  of  books  would  now  be  dispersed.  Such 
a  loss  would  have  been  irreparable  ;  there  was  no  library 
in  Europe  which  at  that  time  contained  so  complete  a 
collection  of  Greek  and  Latin  classics.  It  happened 
that  the  convent  of  St.  Mark's  could  then  command  a 
considerable  sum  of  money,  in  consequence  of  the  sale 
of  all  unnecessary  property  which  Savonarola  had  recom- 
mended. They  agreed  to  pay  two  thousand  florins  at 
once,  and  to  be  responsible  for  an  additional  sum  of  one 
thousand  ;  and  thus  they  secured  to  Florence  that  Bib- 
lioteca  Laurenziana  which  is  to  this  day  one  of  its  prin- 
cipal glories.  And  this  was  the  work  of  a  man  who  has 
been  represented  to  be  an  ignorant  fanatic,  the  enemy 
of  literature  and  art ;  and  the  transaction  took  place  in 
the  very  year  which  witnessed  the  briiciamento  delle 
vanitd,  ! 

The  defence  of  Savonarola  from  the  charge  of 
despising  the  arts  of  painting  and  sculpture  is  no 
less  easy.     If  he  set  his  face  against  the  prostitution 


11| 


-.   ii> 


ii\ 


l\ 


' 


tffcf  , 


270 


SAVONAROLA. 


of  these  arts,  it  is  equally  certain  that  he  desired  to 
see  them  consecrated  to  the  service  of  morality  and 
religion.  To  speak  of  Savonarola  as  a  mere  ignorant 
iconoclast  is  to  ignore  the  cleanest  evidence  to  the 
contrary.  The  walls  of  St.  Mark  at  this  very  day  are 
adorned  with  the  same  sacred  pictures  upon  which  the 
eyes  of  its  greatest  prior  must  have  rested.  Instead 
of  being  the  enemy  of  art,  he  was  the  friend,  the  patron, 
the  guide  of  artists.  One  of  his  dearest  friends  was 
the  great  painter  known  as  Fra  Bartolommeo,  a  member 
of  his  own  convent.  Lorenzo  di  Credi,  according  to 
Vasari,  was  a  "partisan  of  the  sect  of  P>k  Girolamo." 
Michael  Angelo,  who  long  afterwards  took  part  in  the 
same  struggle  for  freedom  in  which  Savonarola  was  so 
prominent,  was  one  of  his  hearers  in  his  youth,  and 
in  his  old  age  took  pleasure  in  reading  his  sermons 
and  other  writings.  Vasari,  who  was  not  a  contem- 
porary, and  who  is  not  always  to  be  depended  upon 
when  he  relates  the  events  of  his  own  age,  records 
that  Fra  Bartolommeo,  or  Baccio  della  Porta,  as  he 
was  commonly  called,  burned  some  of  his  own  pictures 
among  the  vanita.  If  this  were  so,  we  may  be  assured 
that  he  acted  on  grounds  which  satisfied  his  own 
conscience.  One  proof  of  his  lasting  attachment  to 
his  master  is  the  well-known  fact  that  for  four  years 
after  his  death  he  entirely  abstained  from  painting. 

So  far  was  Savonarola  from  making  an  indiscriminate 
attack  on  literature  and  art  that  he  actually  taught  and 
wrote  on  the  subject  of  poetry  and  of  painting.  But 
while  he  defended  poetry  and  demonstr-^ted  its  utility, 
he  declared  that  there  was  in  his  own  time  "  a  false 
kind  of  pretended  poets,  who  did  nothing  but  follow 
in  the   footsteps  of  the   Greeks   and   Romans,   using 


f.  •  J- 


THE  BURNING  OF   THE  «  VANITIES: 


271 


the  same  forms,  the  same  metre,  and  invoking  the 
same  gods,  —  nay,  more,  finding  it  impossible  to  use 
any  other  names  or  words  than  those  which  were 
sanctioned  by  the  ancients.  But  he  did  not,  for  this 
or  any  other  reason,  include  all  the  poets  of  Greece 
and  Rome  under  o^'^e  sweeping  condemnation.  He 
says  that  some  of  them  condemned  base  actions  and 
exalted  those  which  wer^  generous  and  brave.  "  These," 
he  says,  "  have  made  a  good  use  of  poetry,  and  I 
neither  can  nor  ought  to  condemn  them." 

So  far  was  he  from  depreciating  the  beautiful  in 
nature  and  art  that  he  took  pains  to  explain  its  true 
character,  and  declared  that  it  was  a  kind  of  reflection 
of  the  beauty  of  the  Maker  of  all.  A  holy  soul,  he 
said,  actually  participated  in  the  beauty  of  God,  and 
diffused  His  celestial  beauty  throughout  the  body.  But 
he  had  little  toleration  for  the  delight  in  mere  material 
beauty,  and  in  the  endeavor  to  increase  it  without 
regard  to  that  higher  spiritual  beauty  which  was  the 
true  glory  of  man  and  of  woman.  He  told  them  that 
women  who  gloried  in  their  ornaments,  their  hair,  and 
their  hands,  were  simply  void  of  reason  {brutte).  If 
they  would  see  true  beauty,  they  must  look  upon  a 
face  that  was  purified  by  devotion  and  prayer.  That 
would  be  a  reflection  of  the  beauty  of  God  Himself, 
—  a  countenance  that  would  be  almost  angelic. 

From  these  principles  he  took  occasion  to  con- 
demn many  painters  who  made  sacred  subjects  a  mere 
vehicle  for  the  display  of  dresses  and  ornaments,  and, 
still  worse,  took  for  their  models  those  who  were 
distinguished  for  mere  physical  beauty,  and  in  some 
cases  ihose  who  were  notorious  for  their  evil  life, 
instead  of  trying  to  represent  countenances  of  elevated 


-.ir  Ml 


3    '\ 


;| 


T 


i'  ■! 


272 


SAVONAROLA. 


and  spiritual  loveliness,  such  as  might  raise  the  thoughts 
of  the  beholders  to  better  things.  "  Painters,"  he 
exclaimed,  "  in  this  you  do  wrong ;  and  if  you  knew, 
as  I  do,  the  scandal  that  results  from  it,  you  certainly 
would  not  do  it."  Such  things  were  a  public  injury. 
"  You  bring  all  the  '  vanities  *  into  the  churches,"  he 
exclaims.  "  Do  you  think  that  the  Virgin  Mary  should 
be  depicted  in  the  manner  in  which  you  paint  her?  I 
tell  you  that  she  went  attired  like  a  poor,  humble 
woman.'' 

In  the  Lent  which  followed  the  Carnival  of  1497 
and  the  auto-da-fe  on  the  Piazza,  Savonarola  com- 
pleted the  course  of  sermons  on  Ezekiel  which  he 
had  begun  in  the  previous  Advent.  In  these  ser- 
mons his  favorite  topics  were  prominent,  —  the  need 
of  love  and  unity  and  holiness,  the  evils  of  luxury 
and  self-indulgence.  But  throughout  the  whole  course 
there  was  evidence  of  the  expectation  of  a  new  struggle 
with  Rome.  It  came  at  first  in  a  form  for  which  he 
was  not  quite  prepared,  except  that  he  was  always 
expecting  to  hear  of  the  plots  of  the  Medici ;  and  when 
this  danger  passed  away,  he  found  himself  confronted 
by  another,  —  the  deadly  enmity  of  the  Supreme  Pontiff, 
which  led  to  one  last  conflict;  a  conflict  that  was  to 
end  only  when  the  man  who  was  its  object  had  passed 
beyond  the  bounds  of  earthly  strife. 


TREASON. 


273 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


TREASON. 


After  the  failure  of  his  attempt  upon  Florence  in 
the  autumn  of  1496,  Piero  de'  Medici  had  returned  to 
Rome,  determined  to  wait  his  time  and  to  watch  for 
such  changes  in  the  affairs  of  the  republic  as  might 
seem  favorable  to  his  hopes.  His  life  at  Rome  was  of 
the  most  scandalous  description,  —  too  scandalous,  in 
fact,  to  be  described.  Rioting,  drunkenness,  gambling, 
sins  of  the  flesh  which  cannot  be  named,  consumed  his 
nights ;  and  half  of  the  day  was  spent  in  sleeping  off 
last  night's  debauch.  His  wastefulness  and  extravagance 
plunged  him  in  debt,  from  which  the  generosity  of  his 
brother  the  cardinal  was  insufficient  to  preserve  him. 
There  was  hardly  a  vice  with  which  he  was  not  familiar. 
He  was  destitute  even  of  the  virtue  of  tyrants, — gratitude 
to  the  agents  of  their  tyranny.  Men  who  devoted  them- 
selves to  his  interests  were  used,  and  cast  away  hen 
they  seemed  likely  to  be  troublesome.  Some  of  lem 
were  despatched  with  poison  or  the  dagger.  Bi  imid 
all  his  recklessness  and  self-indulgence,  he  deep]\  cher- 
ished the  design  of  returning  to  Florence,  and  r  rsed  a 
most  bitter  enmity  to  its  inhabitants.  One  of  his  hap- 
piest meditations  was  the  thought  of  the  ven^  ance  he 
should  wreak  on  the  men  whom  he  considered  the 
authors  of  his  misfortunes.    The  work  of  reprisals  exe- 

28 


\ 


m 


i 


n 


1 1  >' 


■I 


274 


SAVONAROLA. 


cuted  by  his  ancestors  upon  their  enemies  in  former 
days  should  be  outdone  by  himself.  The  exiles  and 
confiscations  which  followed  the  restoration  of  Cosimo 
after  his  expulsion  by  the  Albizzi,  the  deaths  which  were 
inflicted  after  the  conspiracy  of  the  Pazzi,  were  to  be  a 
mere  trifle  to  what  he  would  do  when  his  turn  came. 
He  would  take  effectual  means  to  prevent  another  ex- 
pulsion from  Florence.  He  did  not  even  pretend  to 
have  the  slightest  regard  for  the  interests  of  the  city. 
When  he  was  told  that  he  could  govern  very  well  with 
a  council  of  twenty  or  thirty  citizens,  he  replied  that 
he  wanted  no  council  at  all ;  he  would  prefer  to  rule 
badly  by  his  own  counsel  than  well  by  that  of  others. 
Trusting  to  the  support  which  would  be  afforded  to  him 
by  the  princes  of  Italy,  to  the  large  party  still  attached 
to  his  family  in  Florence,  and  to  the  chance  of  dissen- 
sions and  divisions  among  the  citizens,  he  was  resolved, 
when  the  fit  time  should  arrive,  to  force  his  entrance  by 
the  power  of  arms. 

Circumstances  arose  sooner  than  he  could  have  ex- 
pected to  give  reality  to  his  hopes.  The  two  months 
during  which  the  Signoria,  elected  in  January,  1497,  held 
office  were  coming  to  an  end.  Francesco  Valori  and 
his  fellow-magistrates  had  attempted  too  much,  and  had 
chilled  the  ardor  of  some  of  their  supporters.  The 
quarrels  and  contests  between  the  Arrabbiati  and  the 
Piagnoni  had  given  the  Bigi,  the  Medicean  party,  an 
opportunity  of  carrying  on  their  secret  plottings  and 
maturing  their  plans.  Some  of  the  Arrabbiati,  despair- 
ing of  being  able  to  carry  out  their  own  designs,  began 
to  make  common  cause  with  the  Bigi  as  the  only  means 
of  destroying  the  influence  of  the  Piagnoni.  Fr^  Mari- 
ano da  Gennazzano,  the  ancient  enemy  of  Savonarola, 


t 


TREASON. 


275 


again  appears  on  the  scene.  While  at  Rome  he  lost  no 
opportunity  of  keeping  alive  the  exasperated  feelings  of 
the  Pope ;  and  now  he  suddenly  presented  himself  in 
Florence. 

At  the  beginning  of  March  a  new  Signoria  was  elected, 
by  whom  Bernardo  del  Nero,  a  citizen  of  reputation  and 
eminence,  but  a  devoted  adherent  of  the  Medici,  was 
chosen  gonfaloniere.  The  Bigi  had  for  some  time  acted 
as  a  party  in  the  great  council,  standing  aloof  from  the 
Piagnoni,  with  whom  they  had  professed  to  co-operate. 
By  degrees  they  became  more  bold  and  outspoken  in 
their  opposition  to  the  existing  state  of  things  ;  but  their 
joy  knew  no  bounds  when  they  had  secured  the  election 
of  one  of  their  party  to  the  post  of  chief  magistrate  of 
the  State.  Still  they  forbore  to  reveal  their  designs,  and 
secretly  despatched  a  messenger  to  Rome  to  bring  word 
to  Piero  of  the  nappy  turn  which  affai^''  had  taken  at 
Florence.  He  knew  that  he  could  \.epend  upon  the 
Pope  and  the  other  members  of  the  Italian  League,  and 
he  now  received  the  assurance  that  a  large  number  of 
the  citizens  would  declare  themselves  on  his  side  if  he 
could  force  his  way  into  the  city. 

Thus  assured,  Piero  began  to  collect  men  and  money. 
Some  of  his  more  cautious  friends  at  Florence  coun- 
selled delay,  as  they  were  by  no  means  sure  that  the 
state  of  the  popular  mind  was  favorable  to  his  attempt. 
But  Piero  could  bear  no  longer  suspense,  and  set  out 
for  Siena,  the  place  appointed  for  meeting  his  fellow- 
conspirators.  There  he  found  the  magistrates  on  his 
side,  and  he  at  once  determined  to  make  his  way  to 
Florence,  with  thirteen  hundred  men  who  had  gathered 
to  his  standard.  To  prevent  the  disclosure  of  his  plan, 
he  endeavored  to  stop  all  the  travellers  who  were  on  the 


Ui 


'J 


276 


SAVONAROLA. 


same  road ;  but  a  fall  of  rain  arrested  his  progress,  and 
gave  time  for  some  of  the  peasants  to  reach  Florence  by 
a  circuitous  route,  when  they  instantly  gave  the  alarm  to 
the  government. 

It  became  at  once  apparent  that  the  city  was  not 
prepared  to  welcome  back  its  old  masters.  The  citizens 
flew  to  arms,  and  the  members  of  the  Signoria  who  were 
favorable  to  the  attempt  were  forced  to  conceal  their 
sentiments.  The  gates  were  closed,  the  walls  were 
armed,  and  all  preparations  were  made  to  meet  the 
enemy.  In  this  moment  of  suspense  one  of  the  Signoria, 
named  Fillppo  Airigucci,  a  friend  of  Savonarola,  sent  off 
Gir  jlamo  Benivieni,  vhe  poet  who  had  written  the  hymns 
for  the  Carnival,  to  consult  the  Frate  respecting  the 
fortunes  of  the  city  The  story  is  told,  not  only  by  the 
contemporaneous  historian  Nardi,  but  in  a  letter  after- 
wards written  by  Benivieni  himself  to  Pope  Clement  VII., 
so  that  there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt  as  to  the  facts. 
He  relates  that,  even  before  he  had  been  able  to  deliver 
his  message,  Savonarola  turned  to  him  with  the  words  of 
Christ  to  Saint  Peter,  ^^  Modiccejideiy  quare  duhitasWi  — 
*0  thou  of  little  faith,  wherefore  didst  thou  doubt?' 
Tell  the  Signoria  that  Piero  de*  Medici  will  come  to  the 
gates,  and  will  turn  back  again  without  obtaining  any 
result."  The  attempt  failed  utterly  and  ridiculously. 
Piero,  finding  the  gates  shut  against  him,  and  the  whole 
city  prepared  as  one  man  to  resist  his  entrance,  retired 
without  drawing  a  sword.  It  was  the  end  of  May;  and 
to  give  the  last  blow  to  his  hopes,  on  the  very  day  that 
he  appeared  before  the  gates  of  Florence,  a  new  Signoria 
was  elected,  pledged  to  resist  the  attempts  of  the  Medici 
and  to  punish  the  conspirators  within  the  city. 

Although  their  attempt  had  failed,  the  conspirators  did 


TREASON, 


^11 


n 


not  abandon  their  design,  as  we  shall  see  hereafter ;  and 
the  hatred  cf  the  enemies  of  Savonarola  waxed  still  more 
fierce.  The  government  now  fell  chiefly  into  the  hands 
of  the  Arrabbiati,  who  as  a  party  were  opposed  to  the 
Bigi,  but  were  still  more  hostile  to  the  Piagnoni.  The 
Compagnacci  under  their  leader,  Dolfo  Spini,  began  to 
consider  how  they  could  best  give  effect  to  their  enmity 
against  St.  Mark's.  Fr4  Mariano  was  about  this  time 
making  one  of  his  accustomed  attacks  on  his  rival  in  a 
sermon  which  he  preached  before  the  Pope.  "Cut  o(f," 
he  cried  out,  "cut  off,  most  blessed  Father,  this  monster 
from  the  Church  of  God."  To  attacks  like  these  Savo- 
narola always  replied  with  the  greatest  gentleness  and 
self-control.  His  wrath,  his  denunciations,  were  reserved 
for  the  enemies  of  God  and  of  the  liberties  of  Florence. 
For  his  personal  enemies  he  had  always  forbearance  and 
charity.  This  generosity  only  drove  his  adversaries  to 
greater  rage  and  violence. 

Savonarola,  who  had  for  some  time  abstained  from 
preaching  in  public,  had  determined  to  speak  to  the 
people  from  the  pulpit  of  the  Duomo  on  the  following 
Ascension  Day  (May  4, 1497).  The  new  Signori,  whether 
in  sincerity  yielding  to  the  known  wishes  of  the  people, 
or  hoping  that  things  might  fall  out  unfavorably  for  the 
Frate,  gave  the  assurance  that  the  sermon  might  safely 
be  delivered.  The  Compagnacci,  who  had  been  for  some 
time  seeking  an  opportunity  of  attacking  him,  first  of 
all  thought  of  making  an  attempt  upon  his  life  on  this 
Ascension  Day.  Among  other  schemes  suggested,  there 
was  a  proposal  to  blow  up  the  pulpit  while  he  was  preach- 
ing;  but  they  feared  to  bring  down  the  public  indignation 
upon  themselves.  Desisting  from  this  scheme,  they  next 
considered  in  what  way  they  might  best  expose  their 


.1 


m 


D 


278 


SAVONAROLA. 


■  nJ 


adversary  to  ridicule  and  contempt.  First,  they  collected 
all  kinds  of  filth  and  placed  it  in  the  pulpit;  then  they 
drove  nails  into  the  wood  at  the  places  where  the  Frate 
was  accustomed  to  strike  his  hands  on  the  pulpit  when 
preaching ;  finally,  they  set  up  in  his  place  the  skin  of  an 
ass.  Their  method  was  as  childish  as  it  was  brutal ;  but 
they  hoped  that  in  the  confusion  which  would  certainly 
ensue,  they  might  find  an  opportunity  of  carrying  out 
their  design  against  the  preacher's  life. 

These  projects  could  not  be  kept  secret ;  the  whole 
city  was  full  of  confusion,  and  on  the  vigil  of  the  Ascen- 
sion the  Signori  gave  out  a  decree  that  no  one  should 
interrupt  the  preaching  on  the  following  day.  The  friends 
of  Savonarola  were  far  from  being  reassured  by  these 
precautions.  They  came  and  entreated  him  to  abstain 
from  preaching ;  but  he  received  the  advice  with  indig- 
nation. "  I  cannot,"  he  said,  "  from  fear  of  man,  leave 
the  people  without  a  sermon  on  that  day  on  which  the 
Lord  commanded  His  disciples  to  go  into  all  the  world 
and  preach  the  Gospel." 

On  the  morning  of  Ascension  Day  the  Piagnoni  went 
to  the  cathedral  and  removed  all  the  filth  which  had 
been  heaped  up  in  the  pulpit.  Just  before  twelve 
o'clock  Savonarola  came  out  of  the  convent,  accom- 
panied by  his  friends.  All  the  biographers  tell  of  the 
remarkable  appearance  presented  by  the  congregation 
assembled  in  the  cathedral,  —  the  Compagnacci,  richly 
attired  and  perfumed,  with  a  smile  of  scorn  and  derision 
on  their  faces,  contrasting  strikingly  with  the  modest 
and  devout  appearance  of  the  Piagnoni.  The  preacher 
began  b)^  speaking  of  the  power  of  faith. 

"Faith,"  he  said,  "is  omnipotent,  and  despises  the  life 
of  earth,  because  it  is  assured  of  the  life  of  heaven.     The 


Vi 


MlMtVtUWOain 


)llected 
in  they 
e  Frate 
it  when 
in  of  an 
al ;  but 
crtainly 
ing  out 

e  whole 

Ascen- 

should 

;  friends 

y  these 

abstain 

h  indig- 

n,  leave 

lich  the 

le  world 

»ni  went 
ch  had 
twelve 
accom- 
of  the 
egation 
richly 
erision 
modest 
readier 

the  life 
The 


THEASON. 


279 


times  predicted  are  now  drawing  near,  —  the  hour  of  danger, 
when  it  will  be  seen  who  is  truly  on  the  Lord's  side.  The 
wicked  thought  to  hinder  me  from  preaching  to-day;  but 
they  must  know  that  I  have  never  shrunk  from  my  duty 
through  fear  of  men.  No  man  on  earth,  be  he  great  or 
small,  can  boast  of  having  hindered  me  in  my  office.  O 
Lord,  deliver  me  from  these  adversaries  who  call  me  a 
seducer;  deliver  my  soul,  for  I  have  no  fear  for  my  body. 
I  call  as  witnesses  the  Lord,  the  Virgin,  the  angels,  and  the 
saints,  that  the  things  revealed  by  me  come  from  God,  and 
that  I  have  received  them  by  divine  inspiration  in  the  vigils 
which  I  have  passed  for  the  good  of  this  people  which  now 
plots  against  me." 

He  then  warns  the  righteous  of  the  trials  which  are 
commg  upon  them,  —  wars  and  excommunications,  the 
sword  and  martyrdom. 

"It  is  the  will  of  God,"  he  f'  es  on,  "that  I  should  be 
the  first  to  endure  them.  I  have  already  told  you  that  I 
shall  meet  with  great  ingratitude,  and  the  lukewarm  [/  Tepidly 
who  are  often  heard  of  during  these  two  years]  will  treat 
me  as  did  the  brothers  of  Joseph,  who  sold  him  to  the 
Egyptian  merchants.  These  say  that  I  am  no  prophet ;  but 
they  are  only  bringing  about  the  fulfilment  of  my  predictions. 
I  repeat  to  you  that  Italy  will  be  devastated  by  barbarous 
nations ;  and  when  they  shall  say  peace  and  safety,  then 
sudden  and  repeated  destruction  shall  come  upon  this  per- 
verse Italy.  But,  ye  righte*  'is,  make  your  prayers  unto 
the  Lord,  and  ye  shall  have  His  help. 

"  And  as  for  the  wicked  [here  a  great  murmuring  arose 
throughout  the  church],  Lord,  he  not  ^ngry  with  them  ; 
convert  them,  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they 
do.  Ye  believe,  O  sinful  men,  that  ye  are  fighting  against 
the  Frate,  and  ye  are  making  war  on  the  Lord ;  because  I 
do  not  fight  against  >  ou  from  hatred  of  you,  but  from  love 
of  the  Lord.     You  say  that  1  sov/  discord ;  but  Christ  came 


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23  WEST  MAIN  STtEET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  145S0 

(716)«73-^S03 


It'* 


^h 


280 


SAVONAROLA. 


not  to  bring  peace  on  the  earth,  but  a  sword.  Why  do  you 
not  turn  to  virtue,  for  then  you  would  have  peace  ?  But  you 
say  I  have  no  right  to  preach,  for  the  Signoria  has  prohibited 
me  ?  That  is  not  true,  nor  ought  I  to  abstain  from  preach- 
ing from  fear  or  at  the  command  of  men.  I  shall  be  silent 
only  when  my  preaching  may  do  harm,  when  I  shall  fear  to 
cause  scandal." 

/The  enemies  of  the  Frate  seemed  determined  to  take 
him  at  his  word,  for  at  this  moment  a  great  crash 
resounded  through  the  church;  and  instantly  noise, 
confusion,  and  disorder  w,gre,  everywhere,  and  many 
rushed  out  of  the  building^The  cause  of  the  uproar 
was  a  certain  Francesco  Cei,  one  of  the  Compagnacci, 
who  had  laid  hold  of  the  alms-box  of  the  church  and 
dashed  it  to  the  ground,  while  another  beat  upon  a  drum, 
some  knocked  upon  the  benches,  and  others  slammed 
the  doors.  Savonarola's  friends  rose  up  to  defend  him, 
some  gathering  round  the  pulpit,  others  rushing  off  to 
procure  arms,  which  they  had  placed  ready  in  a  neighbor- 
ing street.  These,  to  the  number  of  sixty,  speedily 
returned  fully  armed,  and  took  their  place  around  the 
pulpit.  This  movement  only  increased  the  alarm  of  the 
multitude,  who  took  the  armed  men  for  Compagnacci. 
In  the  midst  of  the  confosion,  which  now  became  greater 
than  ever,  two  of  the)  Arrabbiati,  who  were  also  members 
of  "  the  Eight,"  thinTcing  that  their  dignity  would  pro- 
tect them,  endeavored  to  make  their  way  to  the.4)ulpit, 
with  the  intention  of  putting  Savonarola  to  death,  l^ut 
they  found  his  adherents  ready  to  do  battle  in  his 
defence ;  and  one  of  them,  named  Giugni,  received  a 
heavy  blow  on  the  ear,  —  an  insult,  it  is  said,  never 
previously  inflicted  on  one  of  "  the  Eight." 

It  was  a  terrible  moment  for  the  preacher.     "  Wait," 


do  you 
But  you 
jhibited 
preach - 
)e  silent 
I  fear  to 


to  take 
It  crash 
J  noise, 
i   many 
;  uproar 
agnacci, 
irch  and 
a  drum, 
slammed 
;nd  him, 
jg  off  to 
eighbor- 
speedily 
und  the 
of  the 
agnacci. 
greater 
embers 
Id  pro- 
;4)ulpit, 
h^^ut 
in  his 
eived  a 
never 

I' Wait," 


TREASON. 


2%\ 


he  cried  aloud ;  "  have  patience."  Then,  raising  the 
crucifix  aloft,  he  exclaimed :  "  Hope  in  this,  and  fear 
nothing."  But  he  soon  saw  that  it  was  impossible  to 
gain  a  hearing,  and  therefore,  kneeling  down  in  the 
pulpit,  he  prayed  for  a  few  minutes  in  silence ;  and 
when  the  tumult  had  a  little  subsided,  he  came  down 
and  placed  himself  in  the  midst  of  his  defenders,  who 
received  him  with  loud  shouts  of  joy.  Some  held  up 
their  swords  and  spears,  others  their  crosses ;  and  all 
accompanied  him  to  the  convent,  with  loud  cries  of 
Viva  Crista^  their  favorite  watchword.  In  the  garden  of 
the  convent  he  concluded  the  sermon  which  had  been 
so  rudely  interrupted.  He  told  his  hearers  that  they 
need  not  fear,  —  the  wicked  would  fall  into  the  pit  which 
they  had  digged  for  others.  "  Then,"  he  adds,  "  I  will 
sing  praises  to  the  Lord,  and  peacefully  depart  from  this 
life."  In  spite  of  the  tumult  the  sermon  was  reported 
by  Girolamo  Cinozzi,  who  published  it,  with  an  account 
of  all  that  he  had  seen  in  the  Duomo  during  its 
delivery. 

Savonarola  was  as  good  as  his  word.  He  would  not 
continue  his  preaching  when  it  could  be  only  injurious 
and  cause  scandals.  But  he  could  not  refrain  from 
publishing  his  testimony  to  the  world  in  another  manner ; 
and  therefore  he  addressed  a  letter  **  to  all  the  elect  of 
God  and  faithful  Christians,"  saying  that,  in  imitation  of 
the  Lord,  who  often  gives  place  to  wrath,  he  would  for 
a  season  abstain  from  preaching ;  but  in  order  that  the 
Word  of  God  might  not  cease  to  go  through  the  world, 
he  would  say  by  letter  that  which  he  could  not  utter  with 
his  voice.  They  were  not  to  be  troubled,  but  to  rejoice 
at  tribulations.  His  prophesies  would  still  be  verified. 
His  enemies  had  been  trying  to  procure  his  excommuni- 


\A 


•!  1 

'i  1 


}       ! 


282 


SAVONAROLA. 


i;!| 
% 


S 


cation,  and  because  they  had  failed,  they  were  making 
attempts  on  his  life.  They  must  prepare  for  still  more 
grievous  persecutions,  but  their  faith  would  be  strength- 
ened to  endure  them  ;  and  they  must  pray  to  God  that 
He  would  deign  anew  to  open  the  mouths  of  His 
preachers,  because  when  He  commands  there  is  no 
power  which  can  resist  Him. 

The  failure  of  their  last  effort  had  not  damped  the 
ardor  of  his  persecutors.  The  real  authors  of  the  dis- 
turbance were  not  punished,  and  many  innocent  persons 
of  the  popular  party  suffered  death  in  their  place.  This 
was  the  work  of  the  Eight,  whose  office  it  was  to  carry 
the  law  into  effect,  but  who,  as  we  have  seen,  were 
themselves  implicated  in  its  violation.  The  Signoria 
now  ordered  that  no  friar  of  any  order  should  preach,  — 
they  went  so  far  as  to  consider  whether  they  might  not 
pronounce  a  sentence  of  banishment  against  Savonarola ; 
but  the  fear  of  the  people  deterred  them  from  this  out- 
rage. At  the  same  time,  every  effort  was  made  by  the 
Arrabbiati  to  induce  the  Pope  to  issue  the  threatened 
excommunication,  —  a  step  which  his  Holiness  was  the 
more  inclined  to  take,  as  he  judged,  from  the  disturb- 
ance of  Ascension  Day,  that  the  party  of  the  Frate  was 
less  powerful  than  he  had  imagined. 

Savonarola  resolved  to  make  another  attempt  to 
propitiate  the  man  who  so  unworthily  occupied  the 
apostolic  chair.  He  complained  respectfully  that  he 
had  never  been  heard  by  the  Holy  Father,  who,  on  the 
contrary,  had  given  a  too  ready  ear  to  the  false  accusa- 
tions of  his  enemies,  and  had  not  read  his  sermons,  which 
were  printed,  and  from  which  he  might  learn  what  he 
had  actually  preached.  He  denied  the  truth  of  the 
assertions  made  by  Fr4  Mariano,  and  protested   his 


TREASON. 


283 


making 
U  more 
rength- 
od  that 
of  His 
2  is  no 

[)ed  the 
the  dis- 
persons 
;.     This 
to  carry 
n,  were 
Signoria 
each,  — 
ight  not 
onarola ; 
this  out- 
e  by  the 
reatened 
was  the 
disturb- 
rate  was 

empt  to 
)ied  the 

hat  he 
I,  on  the 

accusa- 
ls, which 
what  he 
of  the 
ited  his 


readiness  to  submit  to  the  judgment  of  the  Church  as 
to  whether  he  had  not  preached  the  doctrine  of  the  holy 
Fathers.  "  But  if,"  he  concludes,  "  all  human  help  shall 
fail  me,  I  will  put  my  trust  in  God,  and  will  make  clear 
to  the  whole  world  the  iniquity  of  those  who  will  per- 
haps be  led  to  repent  of  the  work  which  they  have 
begun." 

Savonarola  wrote  this  appeal  on  the  2 2d  of  May, 
and  did  not  know  that  the  Pope  had  issued  the  brief  of 
excommunication  ten  days  before  (May  13).  The  brief 
—  which  was  addressed,  not,  according  to  the  ordinary 
form,  to  all  believers  throughout  the  world,  but  to  the 
brethren  of  Santa  Annunziata  —  had  been  intrusted  to  a 
theologian  named  Giovanni  da  Camerino ;  but  when  the 
bearer  reached  Siena,  he  stopped  there  a  few  days,  and 
fearing  that  the  Frateschi  would  tear  him  to  pieces  when 
they  knew  his  errand,  he  went  back  again,  leaving  its 
delivery  to  other  hands,  so  that  it  did  not  reach  Florence 
until  near  the  end  of  the  month.  When  it  did  arrive, 
many  of  the  clergy  refused  to  publish  it,  on  account  of 
the  irregular  manner  of  its  presentation ;  but  it  was 
at  last  posted  on  the  doors  of  the  principal  churches  of 
the  town. 

It  was  a  remarkable  production.  Savonarola  was  again 
a  "certain  Frk  Girolamo,"  who  was,  according  to  his 
own  representation,  vicar  of  St.  Mark's  in  Florence, 
who  had  sown  pernicious  doctrine,  to  the  great  scandal 
and  unsettlement  and  ruin  of  simple  souls  who  were 
redeemed  by  the  blood  of  Christ.  Then  it  was  set 
forth  that  the  Supreme  Pontiff  had  commanded  him  that 
he  should  entirely  cease  from  preaching,  hoping  that  he 
would  become  convinced  of  his  errors  and  retrace  his 
dangerous  way ;  but  to  this  prohibition  he  had  given  no 


I! 


i, 


]\ 


'A    i| 


284 


SAVONAROLA, 


n 


heed.  Further,  he  had  been  commanded,  on  pain  of 
excommunication,  to  unite  the  convent  of  St.  Mark  to 
the  ne'r  Tusco-Roman  congregation,  founded  by  a  papal 
brief;  but  he  had  still  remained  firm  in  his  pertinacity, 
and  therefore  the  Supreme  Pontiff  commanded  the 
brethren  of  the  Annunziata,  publicly  before  the  people, 
to  declare  him,  Frk  Girolamo,  excommunicated  because 
"  he  has  not  obeyed  our  apostolic  admonitions  and 
commands." 

^Although  the  Pope  showed  the  weakness  of  his  cause 
in  accusing  Savonarola  of  heresy  —  for  there  was  ab- 
solutely nothing  in  the  brief  to  support  such  a  charge 
—  he  still  exhibited  his  subtlety  and  ability  as  a  states- 
man by  fastening  upon  the  undeniable  and  undoubted 
fact  that  the  accused  man  had  not  obeyed  his  commands. 
It  was,  of  course,  perfectly  true  that"  those  orders  had 
been  issued,  not  with  the  intention  of  crushing  a  heretic, 
but  with  the  design  of  shutting  the  mouth  of  a  political 
opponent.  Still,  the  charge  of  flagrant  disobedience 
was  a  serious  one,  and  Savonarola  could  not  denythat- 
he  had  evaded  the  command  to  proceedTxTRome,  and 
that  he  had  taken  no  steps  to  unite  HsLconyent  to  the 
"^y*[^J?PJ?i£eg3.tion.  As  he  could  not  deny  these  acts  of 
disobedience,  he  proceeded  to  justify  or  excuse  them. 
On  the  19th  of  June,  the  day  after  the  publication  of 
the  papal  excommunication  in  Florence,  he  wrote  an 
"  Epistle  against  the  Surreptitious  Excommunication,  to 
all  Christians  and  beloved  of  God."  In  this  letter  he 
repeated  the  assertion  of  the  soundness  of  his  doctrine, 
and  declared  that  the  excommunication  was  invalid, 
because  it  had  been  procured  through  the  false  accusa- 
tions of  his  enemies.  In  a  second  letter,  "  Against  the 
Sentence  of  Excommunication,"  he  proved,  by  quotations 


pain  of 
Mark  to 
r  a  papal 
rtinacity, 
ded  the 
;  people, 

because 
ons  and 

bis  cause 

was  ab- 

a  charge 

a  states- 
idoubted 
mmands^ 
ders  had 
a  heretic, 
L  poHtical 
ibedicnce 

eny  tjiat> 

me,  and 
t"  to  the 
je  acts  of 

>e  them. 
:ation  of 

rrote  an 
'ation,  to 
(letter  he 

loctrine, 
invalid, 
accusa- 

linst  the 

lotations 


TREASON. 


285 


from  Gerson,  that  there  was  no  reason  for  fearing  an 
unjust  condemnation,  and  that  to  yield  obedience  to 
such  a  sentence  were  to  show  "  the  patience  of  an  ass 
and  the  silly  timidity  of  a  hare."  *  Following  the  same 
authority,  he  discussed  the  lawfulness  of  an  appeal  from 
the  Pope  to  a  council,  although  he  expressed  some 
uncertainty  on  this  point ;  but  he  declared  furthe*  that 
to  resist  the  Pope,  when  he  used  his  authority  for  the 
destruction  of  the  Church,  was  not  only  a  right,  but  a 
duty. 

The  excommunication  was  publicly  pronounced  on 
the  1 8th  of  June.''  This  was  done  with  all  possible 
solemnity,  in  the  presence  of  the  clergy  and  the 
brethren  of  the  various  monastic  orders  settled  in 
Florence.  The  sentence  was  read  in  the  cathedral 
to  the  sound  of  bells ;  and  after  the  reading  was 
concluded,  four  lighted  tapers  were  suddenly  extin- 
guished, leaving  the  place  in  gloom  and  in  silence. 

It  would  have  been  difficult,  by  any  other  means, 
to  show  how  powerful  for  good  had  been  the  influence 
of  Savonarola  in  Florence.  The  brief  had  commanded 
that  no  intercourse  should  be  held  with  the  excom- 
municated man,  and  the  Augustinian  and  Franciscan 
friars  refused  to  take  any  part  in  celebrating  the 
approaching  Feast  of  St.  John  if  the  brethren  of  St. 
Mark  were  allowed  to  do  so.  There  was  now  no 
check  put  upon  the  vicious  mob,  which  had  been  so 
long  kept  in  subjection  by  the  terrible  voice  which  was 
now  silent.  It  was  as  though  the  days  of  the  Mag- 
nificent had  come   again.      The  Signoria,   composed 

^  Est  asinina  patientia,  timor  leporinus  et  fatuus. 
3  Burlamacchi  fixes  a  date  a  few  days  later,  but  this  seems 
to  be  the  best  L^tested. 


'  il 


u* 


\ 


\  * 


I)     '" 


2S6 


SAVONAROLA, 


principally  of  Arrabbiati,  encouraged  the  multitude  in 
their  excesses.  The  indecent  attire  which  the  Frate 
had  shamed  men  and  women  into  destroying  or  con- 
cealing, reappeared  in  the  streets;  the  obscene  Car- 
nival songs  again  resounded  throughout  the  city. 
Shameless  vice  and  indecency  were  everywhere.  Any 
other  pontiff  but  the  detestable  Borgia  would  have 
blushed  to  hear  what  work  his  anathema  had  wrought 
in  the  fair  city  of  Florence. 

If  the  stern  Puritanism  of  Francesco  Valori  had 
produced  a  reaction  in  favor  of  a  party  opposed  to 
the  Frateschi,  it  could  hardly  fail  but  that  these  ex- 
cesses should  open  men's  eyes  to  the  true  interests 
of  their  city.  Within  a  week  of  St.  John's  Day  a 
new  Signoria  was  chosen,  and  this  was  found  favor- 
able to  Savonarola.  No  sooner  were  they  elected 
than  they  began  to  use  their  influence  with  the  Pope 
to  obtain  the  recall  of  the  excommunication ;  and  the 
Pope  expressed  his  willingness  to  submit  the  con- 
sideration of  his  doctrines  to  the  judgment  of  six 
cardinals.  While  this  negotiation  was  proceeding, 
Savonarola  received  an  intimation,  through  the  Car- 
dinal of  Siena,  —  afterwards  the  successor  of  Alexander 
in  the  Papacy,  under  the  name  of  Pius  III.,  —  that  if 
he  would  pay  the  sum  of  five  thousand  scudi,  the 
excommunication  would  be  withdrawn.  If  this  offer 
showed  the  Frate  that  the  wrath  of  the  Holy  Father 
was  not  unappeasable,  it  filled  him  with  indignation 
as  a  fresh  proof  of  the  venality  which  prevailed  at 
Rome. 

But  the  Pope  had  at  this  time  trials  of  his  own 
which  must  have  made  his  war  with  the  rebellious 
vicar  of  St.  Mark's  a  very  insignificant  matter.    The 


TREASOff. 


387 


itude  in 
le  Frate 
or  Con- 
ine Car- 
iie  city. 
:e.  Any 
lid  have 
wrought 

ilori  had 
posed  to 
hese  ex- 
interests 
s  Day  a 
nd  favor- 
iT  elected 
the  Pope 
;  and  the 
the  con- 
X  of  six 
oceeding, 
the  Car- 
Uexander 
—  that  if 
;udi,  the 
:his  offer 
y  Father 
Idignation 
ivailed  at 

his  own 
rebellious 
ter.    The 


history  of  the  Borgias  is  involved  in  great  difficulties ; 
and  it  is  now  affirmed  with  confidence  that  the  re- 
nowned Lucrezia  was  not  the  vicious  creature  that  she 
has  been  represented.  Whether  she  was  in  any  way 
the  occasion  of  the  tragedy  which  was  now  enacted, 
there  is  no  doubt  that  her  brother,  the  eldest  son 
of  the  Pope,  who  was  Duke  of  Candia,  was  at  this 
time  most  foully  murdered ;  and  there  is  little  doubt 
that  the  instigator  and  author  of  the  crime  was  no 
other  than  his  own  brother,  the  infamous  Caesar 
Borgia. 

It  was  a  strange  thing  to  see  an  excommunicated 
man  writing  to  the  Pope  who  had  pronounced  the 
anathema,  and  exhorting  him  to  penitence ;  but  Savo- 
narola probably  judged  that  now,  if  ever,  the  Pontiff 
was  open  to  better  and  more  sacred  impressions. 
And,  in  fact,  there  was  probably  no  moment  in  the 
life  of  Alexander  VI.  in  which  he  did  more  seriously 
reflect  on  the  error  of  his  ways.  Sa/onarola  wrote  to 
the  "  most  blessed  Father,"  and  reminded  him  that 
it  was  the  faith  of  Christ,  proved  by  miracles  and  con- 
firmed by  the  blood  of  martyrs,  which  could  alone 
give  peace  and  consolation  to  the  heart  of  man.  It 
was  this  which  could  support  men  in  adversities  and 
make  them  joyful  in  tribulation.  "  Respond,  then," 
he  goes  on,  "  to  the  blessed  call,  so  that  soon  your 
sadness  may  be  turned  into  joy.  Blessed  Father,"  he 
concludes,  "  I  write  under  the  guidance  of  love,  and 
in  the  hope  that  you  may  be  truly  consoled  by  God. 
Already  *  His  wrath  is  kindled '  a  little ;  and  *  blessed 
are  all  they  that  put  their  trust  in  Him.'  May  the 
Lord  Oi"  all  mercy  console  your  Holiness  in  your 
tribulations ! " 


Kl 


1 1 


288 


SAVONAROLA. 


Whether  the  Pope  was  really  touched  by  this  appeal 
coming  to  him  in  the  hour  of  his  bitter  sorrow,  or 
whether  it  was  that  his  mind  was  too  much  pre- 
occupied with  his  own  sorrowful  thoughts  to  give  heed 
to  it,  it  wouli  at  least  appear  that  he  showed  no  re- 
sentment at  the  time  against  the  writer  But  the 
season  of  mourning  and  of  transient  penitence  soon 
passed  away,  and  then  he  remembered  that  the  insolent 
Frate  had  dared  to  intrude  upon  his  sorrow. 

Petitions  and  counter-petitions  now  went  up  to  the 
Holy  Father  from  Florence  on  the  subject  of  the 
excommunication.  The  Arrabbiati  entreated  him  to 
confirm  his  sentence.  The  whole  of  the  brethren  of 
St.  Mark,  to  the  number  of  two  hundred  and  fifty, 
sent  up  a  petition  for  its  removal,  representing  the 
purity  of  the  doctrine  preached  by  their  vicar,  and 
the  holiness  of  his  life.  Another  petition,  on  the  same 
side,  was  circulated  in  the  city,  and  had  in  a  short 
time  received  three  hundred  and  sixty-three  signatures, 
when  the  outbreak  of  the  plague  put  a  stop  to  the 
proceedings  of  both  parties. 

Savonarola  has  been  blamed  because  he  did  not  go 
forth  from  his  convent  and  minister  to  the  sufferers 
who  were  stricken  by  the  pestilence ;  but  it  has  been 
overlooked  that  he  was  at  this  time  under  the  sen- 
tence of  excommunication,  so  that  his  ministrations 
would  not  have  been  allowed  or  accepted.  It  would 
be  absurd  to  accuse  such  a  man  of  cowardice;  for 
apart  from  the  proofs  which  he  had  already  given  of 
his  fearless  spirit,  when  the  people  were  now  rushing 
in  crowds  from  the  plague-stricken  city  he  remained 
steadfast  at  his  post,  ministering  to  the  sick  brethren 
of  his   convent;    for  the   pestilence   did  not   spare 


TREASON. 


289 


lis  appeal 
arrow,  or 
jch  pre- 
jive  heed 
;d  no  re- 
But  the 
nee  soon 
e  insolent 

up  to  the 
:t  of  the 
d  him  to 
rethren  of 
and  fifty, 
inting  the 
vicar,  and 
1  the  same 
in  a  short 
signatures, 
3p  to  the 

did  not  go 
»  sufferers 

has  been 
•  the  sen- 
nistrations 

It  would 
rdice;  for 
given  of 
iw  rushing 

remained 
brethren 

ot   spare 


St.  Mark's.  He  resisted  the  entreaties  of  his  friends 
that  he  would  provide  for  his  own  safety,  and  remained 
reading  to  the  sick  such  passages  of  Scripture  as  were 
calculated  to  afford  them  strength  and  consolation, 
and  even  writing  counsels  for  the  guidance  of  those 
whom  the  scourge  might  smite. 

The  pestilence  soon  passed  away ;  but  it  was  followed 
by  a  discovery  which  filled  the  minds  of  the  people 
with  alarm.  The  conspiracy  of  the  Bigi  in  the  spring 
of  this  year  had  ended  in  ridiculous  failure ;  but  dur- 
ing the  supremacy  of  the  Arrabbiati  no  success 
had  attended  the  efforts  to  discover  its  promoters  in 
Florence.  Soon  after  the  appointment  of  the  new 
Signoria  a  letter  was  discovered  on  the  person  of 
a  certain  Lamberto  dell*  Antella,  a  partisan  of  the 
Medici,  by  means  of  which  the  names  of  the  principal 
conspirators  were  discovered. 

The  inquiry  was  committed  to  the  Eight,  who 
speedily  found  that  some  of  the  chief  men  of  the 
State  had  been  concerned  in  the  plot,  and  especially 
the  majority  of  the  late  Bigi  government,  together 
with  their  gonfaloniere^  Bernardo  del  Nero.  These 
disclosures  were  so  embarrassing  that  the  Eight  hardly 
knew  how  to  deal  with  them,  and  they  applied  to  the 
Signoria  for  advice.  By  these  a  number  of  additional 
judges  were  appointed  to  assist  them  in  their  exam- 
ination of  the  facts.  Lamberto  dell'  Antella,  who  had 
indeed  little  reason  for  attachment  to  a  vicious  and 
ungrateful  master,  on  being  promised  a  free  pardon 
disclosed  the  names  of  the  friends  of  Piero  in  Florence. 
He  further  disclosed  the  intention  of  the  conspirators 
to  make  a  new  attempt  to  bring  the  Medici  back  in 
this  very  month  of  August. 

19 


i    \\ 


390 


SAVONAROLA. 


It  was  an  anxious  moment  for  the  Eight  and  the 
other  twelve  who  had  been  appointed  to  assist  them ; 
but  they  determined  not  to  flinch  from  their  duty, 
and  they  took  an  oath  that  they  would  do  justice 
without  respect  of  persons.  They  then  ordered  that  the 
Piazza  should  be  held  by  armed  men,  and  that  care 
should  be  taken  that  no  one  was  allowed  to  leave  the 
city.  In  the  name  of  the  Signoria  they  required  the 
presence  of  the  men  who  were  most  compromised  by 
the  revelations  of  Lamberto  dell'  Antella.  Some  of 
them  instantly  sought  safety  in  flight;  others  pre- 
sented themselves  before  the  magistrates,  when  it  was 
found  that  five  of  these  had  been  implicated  in  the 
conspiracy.  Of  these  five,  two  were  relatives  of 
Piero  de'  Medici,  —  Niccol6  Ridolfi  and  Lorenzo  Tor- 
nabuoni.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  wife  of  the 
elder  Piero,  the  mother  of  Lorenzo,  was  one  of  the 
Tornabuoni  family.  Besides  these  were  Giovanni 
Cambi  and  Gianozzo  Pucci ;  the  latter,  like  Tornabuoni, 
belonging  to  one  of  the  most  distinguished  of  the  old 
Florentine  houses.  Finally,  there  was  the  aged  Nero, 
who  had  been  the  gonfaloniere  of  the  Bigi  government. 
He  was  a  man  of  high  character  and  reputation,  and 
was  now  seventy-five  years  of  age.  It  will  be  remem- 
bered that  although  a  partisan  of  the  Medici,  he  had 
not  committed  himself  to  any  overt  acts  in  their 
favor ;  and  it  was  now  urged  on  his  behalf  that  his 
only  offence  was  that  he  had  known  of  the  conspiracy 
and  had  not  disclosed  it.  But  such  an  offence  in  the 
chief  magistrate  of  a  State  was  one  of  no  ordinary 
magnitude. 

The  twelve  citizens  who  assisted  the  Eight  had 
acted  as  a  kind  of  jury,  and  they  now  left  those  whose 


/N! 


:  and  the 
jist  them; 
heir  duty, 
do  justice 
jd  that  the 
that  care 
leave  the 
quired  the 
omised  by 
Some   of 
thers   pre- 
hen  it  was 
ted  in  the 
elatives    of 
irenzo  Tor- 
«rife  of  the 
Dne  of  the 
Giovanni 
'ornabuoni, 
of  the  old 
iged  Nero, 
vernment. 
ation,  and 
le  remem- 
ci,  he  had 
Is  in  their 
f  that  his 
onspiracy 
ice  in  the 
ordinary 

light  had 
lose  whose 


TREASON. 


291 


duty  it  wf,s  to  pronounce  the  sentence.  Rut  these 
experienced  the  same  difficulty  which  had  embarrassed 
them  when  they  were  first  made  acquainted  wii  ..  the 
names  of  the  accused.  It  was  their  simple  duty  now 
to  pronounce  the  sentence  of  death  against  the  five 
men  who  had  been  proved  guilty  of  treason  against 
the  republic  ;  but  they  were  afraid  to  incur  the  enmity 
of  the  powerful  families  to  which  the  guilty  men 
belonged.  They  turned  again  to  the  Signoria,  who 
again  reminded  them  that  it  was  their  own  duty,  and 
not  the  duty  of  the  supreme  magistracy,  to  take  the 
responsibility  of  the  sentence.  At  last,  however,  Do- 
menico  Bartoli,  the  gonfalonierey  proposed  that  they 
should  bring  the  matter  before  the  Consiglio  Maggiore, 
to  whom,  according  to  the  recent  law,  the  final  appeal 
might  be  carried.  This  was  objected  to  by  the  friends  of 
the  accused.  Seeing  the  indecision  of  the  magistrates, 
and  knowing  that  the  time  was  approaching  when  a  new 
Signoria  had  to  be  chosen,  they  hoped  that  by  a  short 
delay  they  might  see  their  party  in  power,  and  so  put  a 
stop  to  the  proceedings.  But  the  accusers  were  equally 
resolved  to  bring  the  trial  to  an  end. 

The  Signoria  gathered  together  an  assembly  con- 
sisting of  the  various  magistracies  and  representatives 
of  Florence,  the  Ten,  the  Eight,  the  gonfalonieri  of 
the  companies,  the  senate,  or  lesser  council,  besides 
themselves.  There  were  one  hundred  and  thirty-six 
persons  in  all,  and  the  rule  was  suspended  which 
forbade  those  present  to  express  an  opinion  contrary 
to  that  of  the  Signoria.  It  was  not  long  before  the 
decision  was  given.  The  five  men  were  found  guilty 
and  condemned  to  death,  and  their  goods  were  con- 
fiscated.   It  was  found,  however,  that  there  were  four 


Ml 


^  f  * 


29a 


SAVONAROLA. 


I:      i      I 

I!  i 


'( 


■ 


;■ 


I  I 
'■  i 


votes  among  the  Signoria  favorable  to  the  accused; 
and  their  friends,  hoping  to  take  advantage  of  this 
circumstance,  required  that  the  votes  should  be  given 
individually.  This  device  was  frustrated  by  Valori, 
who  immediately  presented  himself  at  the  table  and 
gave  his  vote  that  these  citizens  were  worthy  of  death, 
and  that  their  goods  should  be  confiscated,  —  an  ex- 
ample which  was  followed  by  all.  The  Eight  were 
now  compelled  to  give  their  sentence,  which  they  did 
by  a  majority  of  six  over  two. 

This  decision  was  the  signal  for  new  discussions. 
The  defenders  of  the  condemned  men  now  declared 
for  an  appeal  to  the  greater  council,  according  to  the 
"  Law  of  the  Six  Beans."  Their  prosecutors  well  knew 
that  this  appeal  was  made  only  for  the  purpose  of 
gaining  time ;  and  they  replied  that  it  could  not  be 
granted,  because  the  accused  I  ad  already  refused  to 
be  judged  in  this  way,  and  because  they  had  not  been 
'"..ndemned  by  the  tribunal  from  which  this  appeal  was 
allowed.  The  public  excitement  and  indignation 
against  the  traitors  was  greatly  increased  by  letters 
which  arrived  at  this  time,  showing  that  the  old 
enemies  of  the  republic,  the  Pope  and  the  Duke  of 
Milan,  were  preparing  to  act  against  their  liberties. 

The  popular  feeling  was  expressed  by  some  of  the 
leading  citizens.  While  the  people  were  threatening  to 
attack  the  houses  of  those  who  were  seeking  to  delay 
the  execution  of  the  sentence,  Francesco  degli  Albizzi 
stood  up  in  the  meeting  at  which  the  appeal  was  being 
discussed,  and  called  out  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  "  Let 
justice  be  done  !"  while  the  Bigi  party  were  doing  their 
best  by  noise  and  disturbance  to  confuse  the  proceedings 
and  prevent  a  decision  being  arrived  at. 


*!;:; 


TREASON. 


293 


B  accused; 
age  of  this 
id  be  given 
by  Valori, 
e  table  and 
ly  of  death, 
i,  —  an  ex- 
Eight  were 
ch  they  did 

discussions. 
Dw  declared 
•ding  to  the 
rs  well  knew 
purpose   of 
3uld  not  be 
^  refused  to 
lad  not  been 
3  appeal  was 
indignation 
by  letters 
at   the    old 
Ihe  Duke  of 
[berties. 
iome  of  the 
ireatening  to 
ing  to  delay 
legli  Albizzi 
|al  was  being 
nder,  "  Let 
doing  their 
proceedings 


The  people  were  almost  unanimous  in  favor  of  refus- 
ing the  appeal ;  but  the  final  decision  of  the  question 
remained  for  the  Signoria,  and  they  still  hesitated  to 
commit  themselves  to  either  course.  The  sitting  was 
protracted  and  tumultuous.  They  had  passed  the  night 
in  debate  and  noise,  when  Valori,  who  now  became  the 
leading  actor  in  the  government,  rose  up  in  great  wrath, 
and  seizing  the  ballot-box,  advanced  to  the  table,  de- 
manding that  the  votes  should  be  taken  and  justice 
done.  Luca  Martini,  who  was  the  Proposto,  was  con- 
strained to  put  the  qiiestion  to  the  vote.  The  four  who 
had  stood  by  the  accused  at  the  beginning  were  still 
firm,  and  voted  for  the  appeal.  But  Valori  was  not  to 
be  baffled.  What  was  the  use,  he  asked,  of  calling  all 
these  citizens  together,  if  their  decision  was  thus  to  be 
disregarded  ?  Was  it  not  clear  that  these  men  had  been 
condemned  for  conspiring  against  the  liberties  of  the 
republic?  Had  not  the  citizens  declared  that  they 
would  defend  those  liberties,  and  that  the  traitors  must 
die  ?  It  would  be  well  if  we  could  believe  that  Valori 
was  influenced  solely  by  the  love  of  liberty.  There  can 
be  little  doubt  that  he  was  also  moved  by  hatred  of 
Nero,  who  had  succeeded  him  in  the  office  of  gonfalo- 
niere*  His  impetuosity,  however,  carried  the  day,  backed 
as  it  was  by  the  indignation  of  the  people.  Again  the 
Proposto  put  the  question  to  the  Signoria  :  Was  it  their 
will  that  the  sentence  of  condemnation  should  be  carried 
out ;  that  instructions  should  be  given  to  the  Eight  this 
very  night  to  carry  out  the  sentence  of  death  against 
these  five  citizens?  The  four  dissentients,  seeing  no 
hope  of  escape,  and  probably  fearing  the  violence  of 
the  people,  voted  for  instant  execution ;  and  the  order 
was  given. 


v'Mk 


HWb 


294 


SAVONAROLA. 


: 


.'     i 


A  last  attempt  was  made  to  excite  compassion,  by 
bringing  the  five  men,  chained  and  barefooted,  into  the 
meeting.  It  was  in  vain;  the  sight  of  them  only  in- 
flamed the  wrath  of  their  judges.  The  condemned  bore 
their  punishment  with  firmness  and  dignity.  At  seven 
o'clock  in  the  evening  their  heads  fell  in  the  court 
of  the  Palazzo  del  Capitano ;  and  the  same  night  the 
Signoria  wrote  to  Rome,  giving  an  account  of  the 
execution,  concluding  with  these  words :  — 

"  The  city  has  been  quite  united  against  these  perfidious 
and  parricidal  citizens  ;  even  their  own  relations  have  de- 
sired that  justice  should  be  done.  And  now  it  is  to  be 
hoped  that  the  State  may  be  in  safety ;  for  the  whole  body 
is  resolved  to  root  out  every  evil  plant.  May  God  have 
mercy  upon  the  souls  which,  by  betraying  their  country, 
have  need  of  such  punishment!" 

It  has  been  brought  as  a  charge  against  Savonarola 
that  he  did  not  interpose  to  save  the  lives  of  the  five 
men,  and  especially  that  of  the  aged  Bernardo  del  Nero. 
Such  an  accusation  will  be  supported  only  by  those  who 
wish  to  blacken  his  memory  without  regard  to  truth  or 
justice.  There  is  no  doubt  that  he  tried  to  save  the 
young  Tornabuoni,  although  he  had  played  a  double 
part  and  deceived  him.  He  afterwards  declared  himself 
that  he  was  opposed  to  the  death  of  Nero ;  but  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  interpose  openly,  and  Valori  had 
made  up  his  mind  that  the  guilty  men  should  die.  This 
accusation  is  of  the  same  kind  with  the  charge  brought 
against  him  that  he  was  concerned  in  the  expulsion  of 
the  Medici  at  a  time  when  he  was  not  even  present  in 
the  city.  Let  it  be  remembered,  too,  that  Savonarola, 
while  he  strove  with  all  his  might  to  obtain  the  best 


s  ii 


TKEASON. 


295 


possible  government  for  the  republic,  never  interfered  in 
the  administration  of  its  affairs. 

Savonarola,  still  under  excommunication,  was  at  this 
time  retired  from  public  life  and  preparing  for  publica- 
tion his  great  work,  the  "  Trionfo  della  Croce."  Our 
limits  do  not  allow  us  to  give  a  complete  account  of  this 
work,*  which  is  perhaps  the  best  adapted  to  convey  to 
the  mind  of  the  present  day  an  accurate  impression  of 
the  power  and  comprehensiveness  of  its  writer's  intellect. 
Its  primary  object  was  to  show  the  entire  accord  be- 
tween the  teachings  of  the  Gospel  and  the  reason  of 
man.''  In  its  form,  at  least,  the  argument  was  new  to 
the  age  in  which  it  was  produced.  The  writer  first  dis- 
courses on  the  existence  and  attributes  of  God.  In  the 
second  book  he  discusses  the  truth  and  excellence  of 
the  Christian  religion,  showing  that  while  it  is  above 
reason,  it  is  not  contrary  to  it.  In  the  third,  he  treats 
of  particular  Christian  doctrines,  —  the  Incarnation, 
Original  Sin,  the  Passion  of  Christ,  the  Morality  of  the 
Church,  the  Sacraments.  In  the  fourth  and  last,  he 
shows  that  the  Christian  is  the  only  true  religion. 

In  this  work,'  the  author  was  careful  to  give  to  the 
Pope  his  true  place  *  according  to  the  theory  of  the  age. 
After  pointing  out  that  Jesus  Christ  had  established  Peter 

1  It  was  written  in  Latin  and  Italian.  There  is  a  good  Eng- 
lish translation  by  Mr.  O'Dell  T.  Hill  (Hodder  &  Stoughton, 
186S). 

2  Villari  remarks  that  in  this  work  Savonarola  was  "  the  glo- 
rious initiator  of  that  noble  school  which  was  afterwards  honored 
by  the  names  of  Bossuet  and  Leibnitz." 

8  Lib.  iv.  cap.  6. 

*  It  is  a  pity  that  the  English  translator  has  thought  good  to 
omit  this  passage. 


1' 


ll 


^[ 


296 


SAVONAROLA. 


as  His  vicar  upon  earth,  and  promised  that  His  Church 
should  continue  forever,  he  goes  on,  — 

"  But  it  cannot  be  said  that  this  power  was  given  to  Peter 
alone,  and  that  he  had  no  others  to  succeed  him,  Christ 
having  promised  that  His  Church  should  remain  to  the  end 
of  the  world.  .  .  .  Whence  it  follows  that  in  the  vicariate  of 
Peter  He  is  succeeded  by  those  whom  He  has  called  into 
His  place,  so  that  there  shall  always  be  one  head  in  the 
Church,  who  holds  the  place  of  Christ,  and  who  has  the 
same  power  which  Peter  had.  Whence,  that  the  Roman 
bishops  are  the  successors  of  Peter,  is  a  thing  manifest, 
and  that  the  Roman  Church  is  the  guide  and  mistress  of 
all  others,  and  that  all  faithful  Christians  should  be  united 
to  the  Roman  Pontiffs." 

When  we  remember  that  these  are  the  words  of  a  man 
then  suffering  under  a  papal  excommunication,  we  may 
easily  perceive  how  far  he  was  removed  from  that  which 
we  mean  by  the  name  of  Protestant. 


RENEWED  CONFLICT  WITH  ROME. 


297 


ti 


f» 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


RENEWED  CONFUCT  WITH   ROME. 


m 


If  the  death  of  his  son  had  for  a  moment  drawn  the 
attention  of  the  Pope  away  from  the  man  towards  whom 
he  entertained  a  mingled  feeling  of  hatred  and  contempt, 
it  was  evident  that  he  had  never  really  laid  aside  his  ani- 
mosity and  resentment.  Equally  clear  was  it  that  it  was 
from  no  doubt,  much  less  from  any  conviction,  of  the 
unsoundness  of  his  faith,  that  he  had  determined  to  par- 
alyse the  influence  of  Savonarola  in  Florence.  As  the 
Frate  frequently  declared,  he  was  hated,  not  as  a  heretic, 
but  as  an  advocate  of  the  political  liberties  of  the  peo- 
ple ;  and  this  aversion  had  become  strengthened  by  the 
boldness  of  the  preacher  in  denouncing  the  evils  of  the 
Church  and  the  immorality  of  the  priests. 

It  is  not,  therefore,  wonderful  that  the  publication  of 
the  "  Triumph  of  the  Cross  "  produced  no  change  in  the 
feelings  or  in  the  intentions  of  Pope  Alexander.  Still, 
the  Frate  waited  in  silence,  hoping  that  time  would  work 
a  change  in  the  policy  of  Rome.  Since  the  disturbance 
on  Ascension  Day  his  voice  had  not  been  heard  in  the 
Duomo  ;  and  Florence,  deprived  of  her  conscience  and 
left  to  her  own  evil  heart,  had  gone  from  bad  to  worse. 
What  was  the  Frate  to  do?  He  had  vindicated  his 
soundness  in  the  faith.    He  was  no  heretic,  he  was  no 


II' I 


.1 


?  f  ^. 


398 


SAVONAROLA. 


schismatic ;  for  he  had  plainly  declared  that  the  chair 
of  Peter  was  the  centre  of  the  Catholic  Church.  His 
only  offence  was  his  refusal  to  obey  the  command  which 
summoned  him  to  Rome ;  and  he  knew  Rome  too 
well  to  hope  for  justice  there.  To  venture  into  the 
den  of  the  lion  was  to  court  sudden  death  or  endless 
imprisonment. 

It  only  remained  for  him,  therefore,  to  treat  the 
excommunication  as  null;  and  on  Christmas  Day  he 
proceeded  to  celebrate  the  three  masses  appointed  for 
that  festival,  and  to  communicate  the  brethren  and  the 
multitudes  who  came  together  to  receive  the  Sacrament 
at  his  hands.  That  his  new  course  of  action  might  be 
clear  to  the  world,  he  and  the  members  of  the  convent, 
at  the  close  of  these  services,  went  in  solemn  procession 
around  the  Piazza  of  San  Marco. 

And  now  preparations  were  made  by  his  supporters 
for  his  resuming  his  place  in  the  cathedral.  The  gal- 
leries were  erected,  the  seats  put  in  order,  and  the 
consent  of  the  Signoria  obtained  to  his  preaching.  This 
step  was  not  to  be  allowed  without  opposition  from  the 
ecclesiastical  authorities.  Lionardo  de'  Medici,  vicar- 
general  to  the  Archbishop  of  Florence,  Rinaldo  Orsini, 
not  unwilling  to  enforce  the  papal  commands,  which  in 
any  case  he  could  hardly  have  overlooked,  forbid  him 
the  pulpit  of  the  Duomo,  and  strictly  prohibited  the 
clergy  of  the  diocese  from  taking  any  part  or  being 
present  at  the  service ;  and  threatened  any  who  might 
be  among  his  hearers  that  they  would  be  refused  abso- 
lution, and  that  they  would  not  be  admitted  to  the 
Communion  or  receive  Christian  burial.  To  these 
threats  the  Signoria  replied  by  announcing  to  the  vicar 
that  if  within  two  hours  he  did  not  quit  his  office. 


RENEWED  CONFLICT   WITH  ROME. 


299 


It  the  chair 
lurch.  His 
mand  which 
Rome  too 
re  into  the 
1  or  endless 

o  treat  the 
nas  Day  he 
)pointed  for 
ren  and  the 
e  Sacrament 
>n  might  be 
the  convent, 
n  procession 

s  supporters 

I.    The  gal- 

pr,  and   the 

hing.     This 

n  from  the 

dici,  vicar- 

Ido  Orsini, 

s,  which  in 

forbid  him 

hibited  the 

or  being 

who  might 

used  abso- 

ed  to  the 

To   these 

the  vicar 

his  office, 


he  should  be  declared  a  rebel.  This  is  certainly  a  fact 
which  may  well  be  considered  by  those  who  profess  to 
look  back  to  those  happier  days  in  which  ecclesiasti- 
cal authority  was  supreme,  and  mourn  over  the  inter- 
ference of  the  civil  power  in  the  evil  days  upon  which 
we  have  fallen.  All  obstacles  being  now  removed,  on 
Septuagesima  Sunday,  February  nth,  1498,  he  stood 
in  the  cathedral  pulpit  surrounded  by  an  immense 
congregation. 

It  was  impossible  for  Savonarola,  after  so  long  a 
silence,  and  appearing  as  he  did  in  defiance  of  the  papal 
censure,  to  avoid  the  subject  of  the  excommunication. 
He  accordingly  declared,  as  he  had  done  before,  the 
lawfulness  and  necessity  of  disobedience  under  certain 
circumstances.  At  the  close  of  the  sermon  he  referred 
to  the  expectation  of  miracles  in  support  of  his  teaching, 
and,  unfortunately  for  himself,  he  seemed  in  a  measure 
to  sanction  this  expectation. 

"  In  his  own  time,"  he  said,  "  the  Lord  will  stretch  out 
His  hand.  But  already  you  have  seen  so  many  signs  that 
there  is  no  more  need  of  miracles.  What  miracle  greater 
than  the  increase  of  this  doctrine  in  the  midst  of  so  many 
contradictions  }  Citizens,  women,  it  may  be  needful  to  lay 
down  our  life  for  this  doctrine.  I  turn  to  Thee,  O  Lord, 
Thou  didst  die  for  the  truth.  I  pray  Thee  that  Thou  mayest 
require  me  alone  to  die  in  its  defence,  for  the  salvation  of 
Thine  elect  and  of  this  people." 

Four  days  later  in  St.  Maj;;k's,  he  returned  to  his 
favorite  theme,  the  corruption  of  the  clergy  :  — 

r*  "  When  I  think  of  the  lives  of  the  priests,  I  must  weep. 
O  brethren,  O  my  children !  weep  for  these  evils  of  the 
Church,  that  the  Lord  may  call  the  priests  to  penitence  ;  for 
it  is  clear  that  there  is  a  great  scourge  upon  them.     It 


? 


/ 


300 


SAVONAROLA. 


\y    \ 


;  i 


is  the  clergy  who  support  every  wickedness.  Begin  with 
Rome.  They  malce  sport  of  Christ  and  of  the  saints ;  they 
are  worse  than  Turks,  worse  than  Huns.  Not  only  are  they 
unwilling  to  suffer  for  God ,  they  go  so  f?.r  as  to  sell  the 
Sacraments.  .  .  .  Can  you  believe  that  Jesus  Christ  will 
longer  endure  it  ?  Woe,  woe,  to  Italy  and  to  Rome  !  Come, 
come,  ye  priests;  come,  my  brethren,  let  us  see  if  we  can 
awaken  a  little  the  love  of  God.  O  Father,  you  reply,  we 
shall  be  put  in  prison ;  we  shall  be  persecuted  and  kUled. 
Be  it  so.  Let  them  kill  as  much  as  they  will,  so  long  as 
they  cannot  take  Christ  from  my  heart.  I  am  willing  to  die 
for  my  God.       .  , 

♦'  You  have  been  at  Rome  and  know  the  life  of  these 
priests.  Tell  me  what  you  think  of  these  supporters  of  the 
Church,  of  these  temporal  lords  ?  They  have  courtesans 
and  squires,  and  horses  and  dogs ;  their  houses  are  full  of 
carpets,  of  silk,  of  perfumes,  of  servants.  Does  this  look 
like  the  Church  of  God  .'*  Their  pride  fills  the  world,  and 
the. '  avarice  is  no  less.  They  do  everything  for  money  ; 
their  bells  ring  only  to  gratify  their  avarice,  and  call  only 
for  bread  and  money  and  candles.  They  are  present  in  the 
choir  at  vespers,  because  then  they  are  paid.  You  will  not 
find  them  at  matins,  when  no  money  is  distributed.  They 
sell  benefices,  they  sell  the  Sacraments,  they  sell  marriage 
masses,  they  sell  everything.  And  yet  they  are  afraid  of  an 
excommunication!  .  .  .  Lord,  send  now  Thy  sword." 

On  Sexagesima  Sunday  he  again  spoke  of  the  papal 
authority  and  of  the  excommunication.  "  But  why  do 
they  set  themselves  against  me  at  Rome?  Perhaps 
you  think  it  is  for  religion?  Not  at  all.  They  want 
to  change  the  government ;  they  want  to  introduce  a 
despotism ;  and  they  do  not  care  for  the  holy  living  of 
the  people,  which  rises  with  our  teaching  and  falls  with 
it."  And  again  on  Quinquagesima  Sunday  (February  25) 
he  returns  to  the  same  subject :  "  But,  O  Father,  what 


RENEWED  CONFLICT  WITH  ROME. 


301 


will  you  do,  if  all  the  world  come  against  you  ?  I  shall 
stand  firm,  because  my  doctrine  is  the  teaching  of  good 
living,  and  therefore  it  comes  from  God.*'  The  Carnival 
was  drawing  to  an  end,  and  he  announced  to  the  peo- 
ple that  he  would  give  a  solemn  benediction  on  Shrove 
Tuesday,  in  the  piazza  of  the  convent ;  and  he  added  : 

"  When  I  shall  have  the  Sacrament  in  my  hand,  I  beseech 
every  one  of  you  to  make  fervent  prayer  to  the  Lord  that, 
if  this  work  does  not  come  from  Him,  He  may  send  a  fire 
which  shai.  draw  me  down  to  hell.  Make  such  a  prayer 
throughout  these  days.     Write  it  and  proclaim  it  to  all." 

On  the  last  day  of  the  Carnival,  after  giving  the 
Sacrament  to  a  great  number  of  the  people,  there  was  a 
procession ;  and  then  the  Frate  ascended  a  temporary 
pulpit  which  had  been  placed  near  the  principal  door  of 
the  church.  There  he  knelt  in  prayer,  while  the  breth- 
ren sang  psalms ;  and  then,  standing  up,  he  requested 
the  people  to  offer  the  prayer  he  had  taught  them. 
Then,  holding  the  Sacrament  in  his  hand  and  blessing 
the  kneeling  multitude,  he  prayed,  "  O  Lord,  if  I  do  not 
act  with  sincerity  of  mind,  if  my  words  come  not  from 
Thee,  strike  me  with  Thy  thunder  this  moment."  The 
people  saw  written  on  his  face,  while  he  spoke,  the 
expression  of  a  confident  faith  in  his  words. 

And  then  came,  for  a  second  time,  as  on  last  Shrove 
Tuesday,  the  "  burning  of  the  vanities."  On  the  Piazza 
stood  a  pyramid  larger  than  that  of  the  former  year,  and 
on  the  top  of  it  a  representation  of  Lucifer  surrounded  by 
the  seven  deadly  sins.  Again  the  torches  were  applied 
amid  the  triumphant  singing  of  the  Te  Deum  and  the 
exulting  shouts  of  the  beholders.  For  the  moment  Savo- 
narola had  resumed  his  full  sway  over  the  people 
of  Florence. 


«i 


f> 


m  1' 


302 


SAVONAROLA. 


The  Pope  was  more  furious  than  ever.  Nothing  was 
talked  of  at  Rome  but  the  audacity  of  this  presumptuous 
friar,  who  treated  with  utter  contempt  the  excommuni- 
cation of  the  Pope,  and  held  up  the  lives  of  the  clergy 
to  the  detestation  of  mankind.  His  enemies  gave 
Alexander  no  peace ;  and  Yrh.  Mariano  was  foremost 
among  those  who  called  for  vengeance.  In  the  church 
of  the  Augustinians  he  upheld  the  authority  of  the  Su- 
preme Pontiff,  "  who  spoke  by  the  Holy  Ghost."  "  This 
is  the  true  light,  and  not  he  of  Ferrara,  who  preaches  in 
the  light  of  the  devil,  and  dares  to  say  that  the  Pope  is 
a  broken  weapon  {ferro)^  And  here  he  could  not 
contain  his  rage,  but  broke  out :  "  The  great  drunkard, 
the  scoundrel,  the  thief,  the  robber,  who  has  treasures 
hidden  away  in  secret !  O  Pope,  O  cardinals,  how  can 
you  endure  this  monster,  this  hydra?  Has  the  authority 
of  the  Church  come  to  such  a  pass  that  a  drunkard  like 
this  can  thus  ignominiously  cast  it  under  his  feet  ?  " 

The  Pope  was  desirous  of  using  his  last  weapon ;  he 
prepared  to  smite  Florence  with  an  interdict :  but  first 
he  addressed  a  brief  to  the  Signoria  (issued  the  very  day 
before  the  new  auto-da-fe),  in  which  he  recounted  the 
offences  of  the  Frate  against  the  Holy  See,  and  urged 
them  "  at  least  to  separate  this  corrupt  member  from  the 
rest  of  the  people,  and  keep  him  in  custody,  that  he 
might  not  sow  new  scandals  j "  but  if  they  would  not 
consent  to  this,  he  "  must  have  recourse  to  an  interdict, 
and  to  other  remedies  still  more  efficacious."  At  the 
same  time  he  gave  strict  orders  to  the  canons  of  the 
cathedral  to  prevent  him  from  preaching  in  their 
church. 

It  was  now  the  time  for  a  change  of  Signoria.  Those 
elected  in  January  had  cared  no  more  for  the  papal  briefs 


,  1 


RENEWED  CONFLICT  WITH  ROME. 


303 


;xcommuni- 


than  Savonarola  himself;  but  the  March  election  gave 
a  decided  majority  to  the  Arrabbiati ;  and  one  of  these, 
named  Piero  Popoleschi,  and  known  as  a  most  deter- 
mined adversary  of  Savonarola,  was  chosen  gonfaloniere 
of  justice.  He  was  a  cousin  of  Piero  de'  Medici,  and 
had  formerly  borne  that  name,  but  had  chosen  that  of 
Popoleschi  after  the  expulsion  of  his  relatives,  and  had 
joined  the  aristocratic  party. 

It  was  a  terrible  change  which  had  taken  place  in  one 
short  week,  and  Savonarola  knew  that  the  papal  com- 
mands would  now  obtain  a  different  reception  at  the 
hand  of  the  authorities.  On  the  day  on  which  the  new 
Signoria  was  installed,  he  preached  in  the  cathedral  on 
the  briefs  that  had  just  arrived  from  Rome. 

"  They  call  me,"  he  says,  "  the  son  of  perdition.  Let 
this  be  sent  back  for  answer:  *  The  man  whom  you  thus 
designate  has  neither  harlots  nor  concubines,  but  gives 
himself  up  to  preaching  the  faith  of  Christ.  His  spiritual 
children,  those  who  listen  to  his  doctrine,  do  not  pass  their 
time  in  the  commission  of  crimes  ;  they  go  to  confession, 
to  communion ;  they  live  virtuously.  This  friar  labors  to 
exalt  the  Church  of  Christ,  and  you  to  destroy  it.'  " 

He  would  not  lower  his  tone  even  in  that  moment 
of  danger ;  but  he  judged  it  best  to  retire  from  the  ca- 
thedral and  continue  his  sermons  during  Lent  at  St. 
Mark's. 

The  Signoria  were  in  a  difficulty.  Some  of  them  would 
gladly  have  carried  out  the  Pope's  instructions,  but  they 
feared  the  people.  The  minority,  who  stood  by  the 
Frate,  urged  the  mischief  that  his  removal  would  cause 
to  the  State.  The  Signoria  yielded  to  these  considera- 
tions, and  wrote  to  the  Pope  to  say  that  Savonarola  had 
retired  to  his  convent,  that  they  could  not  further  inter- 


\ 


:!!«>«<• 


304 


SAVONAROLA. 


fere  with  a  man  whose  doctrine  was  so  pure,  whose  life 
was  so  holy.  "  It  would  be  unworthy  of  the  republic  ; 
it  would  be  unjust  to  a  man  who  had  deserved  so  well 
of  his  country ;  it  would  be  a  cause  of  popular  discord 
and  of  great  danger  to  many." 

And  so  the  Frate  was  permitted  to  go  on  with  his 
sermons  at  St.  Mark's.  The  congregations  were  so 
large  that  they  were  forced  to  exclude  women  from  the 
sermons.  These  had  to  go  to  San  Lorenzo,  where  FrA 
Domenico  was  preaching;  afterwiirds,  when  that  was 
shut  against  him,  to  San  Niccol6.  But  they  would  not 
be  satisfied  until  Savonarola  consented  to  preach  to 
them   alone,  on   Saturdays,  at  St.   Mark's. 

In  the  sermons  preached  during  this  Lent,  Savonarola 
discussed  the  fallibility  of  the  Pope,  and  declared  that 
a  man  who  said  the  Pope  could  not  err  because  he  was 
the  Pope,  might  as  well  say  that  a  Christian  could  not 
err  because  he  was  a  Christian. 

When  the  Pope  received  the  answer  of  the  Signoria 
to  his  demands,  he  sent  for  the  ambassadors  of  the 
republic  in  great  wrath,  and  declared  that  he  would 
place  the  city  under  an  interdict  unless  Savonarola  were 
delivered  into  his  hands,  or  at  least  prevented  altogether 
from  preaching.  In  addition  to  this  verbal  communi- 
cation, he  wrote  to  the  Signoria,  rebuking  their  audacity 
in  defending  this  rebel  against  his  authority. 

"  Your  conduct,"  said  his  Holiness,  '•  has  gravely  dis- 
pleased us.  .  .  .  Take  mature  counsel  on  your  affairs.  .  .  . 
In  any  case,  answer  us  no  more  with  letters,  but  only  with 
acts,  because  we  are  most  firmly  decided  no  longer  to  tol- 
erate your  disobedience  ;  and  we  will  place  an  interdict 
upon  your  whole  city,  which  shall  remain  so  long  as  you 
continue  to  show  favor  to  this  your  monstrous  idol." 


RENEWED  CONFLICT  WITH  ROME. 


305 


whose  life 

republic ; 

red  so  well 

lar  discord 

n  with  his 
s  were  so 
n  from  the 
where  Fri 
I  that  was 
would  not 
preach  to 

Savonarola 

clared  that 

luse  he  was 

could  not 

le  Signoria 
lors  of  the 

he  would 
narola  were 
I  altogether 

communi- 
lir  audacity 


ravely  dis- 
iffairs.  .  .  • 
ut  only  with 
)nger  to  tol- 
an  interdict 
ong  as  you 
as  idol." 


It  is,  however,  remarkable  that  the  Pope,  in  these 
communications,  withdraws  the  charge  of  false  doctrine. 
When  the  government  of  Florence  urged  the  holy  life 
and  good  teaching  of  Savonarola,  the  Pope  allowed  that 
there  was  no  question  of  these  things,  but  only  of  his 
disobedience  to  the  papal  commands  and  prohibitions, 
adding  that,  if  he  would  come  to  Rome  and  make  his 
submission,  he  should  receive  absolution.  There  can 
be  little  doubt  uS  to  his  fate,  if  he  had  gone  to  Rome. 

On  the  17th  of  March,  1498,  a  meeting  of  the  Signo- 
ria was  held.  By  the  influence  of  the  proposto  of  the 
day,  Giovanni  Berlinghieri,  and  the  gonfaloniere,  both  of 
them  determined  enemies  of  Savonarola,  it  was  decided 
that  he  should  be  inhibited  from  preaching.  It  was 
no  more  than  was  to  be  expected.  It  is  honorable  to 
the  Signoria  that  some  of  its  members  should  still  have 
protested  against  the  sentence.  Savonarola  was  not 
surprised.  On  the  following  day,  the  third  Sunday  in 
Lent,  he  announced  to  the  congregation  his  resolution 
to  obey,  and  bade  them  farewell.  It  was  his  last 
sermon. 

He  told  the  people  how  oflen  he  had  resolved  to 
abstain  from  preaching  on  the  things  which  had  been 
revealed  to  him ;  but  he  said  he  had  been  unable  to 
contain  himself.  "  The  word  of  the  Lord  has  been  with- 
in me  as  a  consuming  fire,  shut  up  within  my  bones  and 
my  heart,  and  I  have  not  been  able  to  restrain  it, 
because  I  have  felt  myself  all  on  fire  with  the  Spirit  of 
the  Lord."  He  then  told  them  of  the  order  he  had 
received,  the  day  before,  from  the  Signoria.  He  did 
not  regret  it  for  himself.  He  could  return  to  his  studies, 
which  were  his  delight ;  but  he  was  not  equally  satisfied 
that  his  retirement  was  right.    "  But,"  he  said,  "  we  will 

20 


$0$ 


SAVONAROLA. 


'    1 


do  with  prayers  what  we  cannot  do  by  preaching.  Lord, 
I  commend  to  Thee  the  good ;  Thou  wilt  forgive  their 
shortcomings,  for  human  frailty  is  great.  Benefac^ 
Domine,  bonis  ei  rectis  eorde,  — '  Do  well,  O  Lord,  unto 
those  that  are  good  and  true  of  heart.'  O  Lord,  I  pray 
Thee,  delay  no  longer  to  fulfil  Thy  promises  ! "  And 
then,  reciting  the  Lord's  Prayer,  he  added,  "  O  Lord, 
deliver  us  from  all  evil.  I  commend  unto  Thee  the  souls 
of  our  adversaries ;  enlighten  them,  O  Lord,  that  they  go 
not  dow  1  into  hell !  I  commend  to  Thee  this  whole 
people.     Give  them,  O  Lord,  Thy  benediction." 

The  grief  of  his  supporters  was  profound  and  intense ; 
the  joy  of  his  enemies  was  unbounded.  The  Pope  was 
at  last  satisfied  that  his  faithful  children  at  Florence  had 
done  their  duty. 

There  was  only  one  resource  left  for  the  persecuted 
raaxi.  He  would  still  make  an  effort  to  give  effect  to  the 
thought  which  had  long  dwelt  in  his  mind ;  he  would 
see  whether  a  council  might  not  be  convoked  for  the 
reformation  of  the  Church.  In  this  desire  he  had  been 
encouraged  by  tho  Cardinal  of  San  Pietro  in  Vincoli, 
and  he  knew  that  it  was  favored  by  the  King  of  France. 
He  determined  to  appeal  to  him  and  to  the  other  princes 
of  Europe.  The  life  of  this  man  who  disgraced  the 
chair  of  Peter  should  be  condemned  by  the  Church ;  if 
possible,  his  election  should  be  declared  simoniacal  and 
void.  He  now  penned  his  famous  "Letter  to  the 
Princes  of  Europe,"  telling  them  that  the  Church  was 
full  of  abominations,  and  they  made  no  attempt  to 
remedy  them,  so  that  the  Lord  was  grievously  displeased, 
and  had  left  the  Church  without  a  pastor ;  for,  he  says, 

"  I  testify  now  to  you,  in  verbo  Domini^  that  this  Alex- 
ander is  not  Pope,  nor  can  he  be  retained  as  such;    for 


RENEWED  CONFLICT  WITH  ROME. 


307 


ling.  Lord, 
forgive  their 
:.  Benefac, 
)  Lord,  unto 
Lord,  I  pray 
ses ! "  And 
i,  "  O  Lord, 
hee  the  souls 
,  that  they  go 
e  this  whole 
:ion." 

and  intense ; 
he  Pope  was 
Florence  had 

e  persecuted 
;  effect  to  the 
d ;  he  would 
oked  for  the 
he  had  been 
)  in  Vincoli, 
g  of  France, 
other  princes 
isgraced  the 

Church;  if 

noniacal  and 

elter  to  the 

Church  was 

attempt  to 
y  displeased, 
br,  he  says, 

at  this  Alex- 
is such;    for 


leaving  alone  his  most  wicked  sin  of  simony,  by  which  he 
obtained  the  papal  chair,  and  the  fact  that  every  day  he 
sells  the  ecclesiastical  benefices  to  whosoever  will  buy  them, 
and  apart  from  his  other  manifest  vices,  I  affirm  that  he  is 
not  a  Christian,  and  that  he  does  not  believe  there  is  a 
God." 

Before  sending  forth  this  letter  to  the  Emperor, 
the  King  of  Spain,  and  the  other  princes,  Savonarola 
thought  it  advisable  to  a^ldress  himself  to  Charles 
VIIL  of  France,  in  whom  he  placed  his  chief  reliance 
for  the  assembling  of  t'le  council.  His  letter  was 
intrusted  to  a  courier,  who  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
soldiers  of  the  Duke  of  Milan.  Lodovico,  rejoiced 
at  this  opportunity  of  wreaking  his  vengeance  upon 
an  old  adversary,  immediately  sent  on  the  letter  to 
the  Pope.  Before  his  Holiness  could  give  expres- 
sion to  his  indignation,  fresh  events  occurred  which 
hastened  on  the  approaching  crisis ;  but  this  crowning 
audacity  of  the  Dominican  vicar  was  not  forgotten 
when  the  time  of  vengeance  arrived. 


;  ( 


i 


tUttlltmtmtimtimt. 


,^t,j..ji»imimmttiiti0 


i 
1 


> 


I 


'f 


308 


SAVONAROLA, 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


THE  ORDEAL   BY   nRE. 


It  has  been  asked  how  it  was  that  Socrates,  after 
thirty  years  of  "  public,  notorious,  and  efficacious  dis- 
coursing,"^ lost  his  hold  at  last  upon  the  people  of 
Athens;  and  the  reason  has  been  found  in  the  char- 
acter and  circumstances  of  the  Athenians.  In  the  case 
of  Savonarola  the  change  was  far  greater  and  more 
remarkable,  and  the  causes  perhaps  more  various.  He 
exercised  a  power  and  a  sway  over  the  mind  and 
history  of  Florence  which  was  never  possessed  by 
Socrates  in  Athens;  and^he_people  turned  against  him 
with  a  completeness  and  bitterness  of  revulsion}  which 
exceeded  the  "madness  of  the  people  of  Athens. 

We  have  already  referred  to  the  severe  and  un- 
compromising Puritanism  of  Savonarola  as  having 
within  itself  the  sure  prophecy  of  failure;  but  the 
causes  at  work  were  too  multifarious  and  diverse  to  be 
easily  identified  and  distinguished.  It  was  a  serious 
thing  for  a  man  to  set  himself  as  an  accuser  before 
the  vices  of  a  vicious  age.  It  was  a  still  more  serious 
thing  to  proclaim  war  upon  those  vices  incarnate,  as 
they  were,  in  the  rulers  of  Church  and  State.  Those 
who  have  position,  power,  and  wealth,  however  feeble 
in    themselves,   however    incapable   of   accomplishing 

1  Grote's  History  of  Greece,  viii.  634;  Stanley's  Jewish 
Church,  ill.  211. 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE. 


309 


rates,  after 
acious  dis- 
people of 
1  the  char- 
In  the  case 
•  and  more 
arious.    He 
mind  and 
ossessed  by 
against  him 
[ilsionj  which 
ens. 

ire  and  un- 
as    having 
;    but  the 
diverse  to  be 
as  a  serious 
;user  before 
nore  serious 
incarnate,  as 
Itate.    Those 
|wever  feeble 
;complishing 

mley's  Jewish 


any  great  object  even  for  their  own  advantage,  are 
often  terrible  enemies,  because  they  become  a  focus 
for  discontent,  and  can  sustain  a  waifare  which  they 
could  not  originate  or  conduct.  It  must  be  added 
that  the  position  and  pretensions  of  Savonarola  were 
peculiarly  difficult  and  dangerous.  That  he  was  sincere 
and  honest  we  cannot  doubt.  He  believed  with  all 
his  heart  in  the  claims  which  he  advanced.  But  there 
was  a  point  at  which  he  became  uncertain  of  himself. 
His  biographers  have  collected  accounts  of  miracles 
supposed  to  have  been  wrought  by  him.  We  cannot 
find  that  he  ever  laid  claim  to  such  powers  himself; 
but  he  certainly  did  not  discourage  the  supposition 
that  such  evidence  might  be  granted  in  confirmation  of 
his  doctrine. 

It  is,  in  truth,  one  of  the  most  convincing  proofs  of 
his  entire  sincerity.  An  impostor  might  have  known 
that,  as  his  revelations  were  inventions,  so  he  could 
have  no  pretensions  to  work  miracles  except  as  the 
mere  deceptions  cf  jugglery.  Savonarola  believed  that 
the  fire  which  burned  in  his  heart  was  kindled  by  God, 
and  therefore  he  might  well  ask  himself  why  the  same 
Spirit  should  not  appear  by  signs  and  wonders,  and 
confirm  the  words  which  He  had  taught  His  servant 
to  speak.  "God  could  stretch  forth  the  hand  in  His 
own  time,"  he  said.  He  did  not  promise  that  it  should 
be  so ;  but  he  did  not  feel  that  he  had  a  right  to 
repress  the  expectation. 

The  changing humors   of  the  upper    and  middle 

classes  of  the  people  had  been  faithfully  reflected  in 
the  changes  of  the  government.  At  the  beginning  of 
Lent  (1498)  the  public  opinion  of  these  classes  was 
decidedly  hostile   to  Savonarola  \^  yet  they  were  not 


■ifl 


310 


SAVONAHOLA, 


'I 


prepared  to  proceed  to  extremities.  Many  of  them 
sincerely  respected  him ;  and  they  knew  that  the 
masses  of  the  people  still  believed  in  him,  and  were 
p.epared  to  defend  hinj.  If  they  went  beyond  what 
the  absolute  necessities  of  their  circumstances  might 
require,  if  they  proceeded  to  lay  hands  upon  the  ex- 
communicated Frate,  they  might  provoke  a  war,  in 
which  the  popular  element  would  be  their  adversary 
and  destroyer. 

While  these  conflicting  forces  were  pausing  for 
some  change  which  should  set  them  m  motion,  an 
event  occurred  which  was  destined  to  have  the  most 
powerful  influence  upon  the  course  of  this  history  In 
the  previous  year  Fr^  Domenico  Buonvicini  had  been 
preaching  at  Prato,  when  a  Franciscan,  named  Fr^ 
Francesco  di  Puglia,  who  was  preaching4iulhe-6arae 
town,  made  a  violent  attack  upon  the  teaching  of 
Savonarola.  He  went  so  far  as  to  say  <ihat  he  was 
leady  to  enter  the  fire  with  Fril  Domenico,  that  it 
might  thus  be  made  manifest  which  of  them  wasji 
witness  for  the  truth.  This  offer  was  eagerly  accepted 
"by  Fr^  Domenico,  and  a  day  was  fixed;  but  before 
that  time  Frk  Francesco  pleaded  that  he  v^as  ordered 
by  his  superiors  to  depart  elsewhere  on  important 
business.  It  has  been  thought  that  this  course  was 
taken  because  there  was  no  prospect  of  striking  at 
Savonarola  himself  by  means  of  such  a  trial 

Be  this  as  it  may,  in  the  Lent  of  1498  the  same 
Francesco  was  preaching  at  the  Franciscan  church  of 
Santa  Croce,  when  he  again  attacked  Savonarola  in 
the  most  violent  manner  as  a  heretic,  a  schismatic,  and 
a  false  prophet,  and  challenged  him  to  enter  the  fire 
with  him,  to  prove  whether  his  doctrine  was  true. 


'  <,: 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE. 


3" 


When  Fra  Domenico  heard  of  this  new  attack,  he 
claimed  to  take  the  brunt  of  the  battle  upon  himself, 
because  it  had  arisen  out  of  the  quarrel  of  the  pre- 
vious year  at  Prato.  He  declared  himself  ready  to 
defend  the  doctrines  of  his  master,  who  was  at  this 
time  prohibited  from  preaching,  and  willing  to  submit 
to  any  ordeal  in  defence  of  their  truth.  Savonarola 
discouraged  this  rashness  in  every  possible  way.  He 
had  already  proved  the  truth  of  his  doctrine,  and 
none  had  ventured  to  point  out  the  slightest  heresy  in 
his  teaching.  He  could  not  undertake  such  a  mode 
of  defending  himself  without  a  clear  divine  sanction. 

Fr^  Domenico  was  not  to  be  restrained.  He  pub- 
li.-hed  a  set  of  propositions  which  he  was  prepared  to 
maintain,  in  defence  of  which  he  was  ready  to  enter 
the  fire :  i.  The  Church  of  God  needs  renovation. 
'  2.  It  will  be  scourged.  3.  It  will  be  renovated. 
4.  Florence,  too,  after  the  scourge,  will  be  renovated 
and  prosper.  5.  The  infidels  will  be  converted  to 
Christ.  6.  All  these  things  will  take  place  in  our 
times.  7.  The  excommunication  lately  issued  against 
our  father.  Brother  Hieronymus,  is  null,  8.  Those 
who  do  not  observe  it  do  not  sin. 

To  this  Fr^  Francesco  replied  that  he  had  no 
quarrel  with  Yxk  Domenico  da  Pescia,  but  with  Frk 
Girolamo,  whose  doctrines  he  called  in  question ;  and 
it  was  he  whom  he  challenged  to  the  ordeal.  The 
matter  might  have  died  out  as  a  passing  folly  which 
deserved  no  serious  notice ;  but  the  enemies  of  Savo- 
narola saw  their  opportunity,  and  determined  that  it 
should  not  be  lost.  If  Fri  Francesco  could  only  be 
made  to  persevere  with  his  challenge,  they  might  now 
forever  ruin  the  man  whom  they  hated.     If  Savonarola 


312 


SAVONAROLA. 


should  venture  to  enter  the  fire,  he  would  be  burned. 
If  he  refused,  his  credit  with  the  populace  would  be 
gone  for  ever. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  Compagnacci 
were  at  the  bottom  of  the  movement.  Dolfo  Spini 
and  his  friends  induced  the  Signoria,  who  were  only 
too  ready,  to  take  the  same  view  of  the  position.  Pri- 
vately they  assured  Fri  Francesco  that  there  would 
be  no  real  necessity  for  him  to  enter  the  fire ;  and  the 
assurance  emboldened  him  to  persist.  He  had  no 
pretensions,  he  said,  to  compare  with  ¥xk  Girolamo, 
but  it  was  with  him  that  the  trial  must  be  made :  he 
had  nothing  to  do  with  Frk  Domenico  ;  and  he  added 
that  his  challenge  was  made  "at  the  instance  and 
request  of  the  magnificent  Signori." 

The  Signoria  were  not  entirely  of  one  accord  in 
this  matter ;  but  the  thing  had  gone  too  far,  and  it 
only  remained  to  see  it  carried  out.  Burlamacchi 
asserts  that  Savonarola,  although  he  never  approved 
of  the  ordeal,  offered  to  submit  to  it  on  condition 
that  the  ambassadors  of  all  the  Christian  princes  and 
the  Pope's  legate  were  present.  This  requirement  was 
probably  advanced,  not  only  from  the  just  suspicion 
that  unfairness  might  be  used  in  conducting  the  trial, 
but  also  to  remove  all  doubt  as  to  its  lawfulness.  His 
adversaries  replied  that  these  excuses  were  vain,  and 
that  they  were  advanced  only  for  the  purpose  of 
wasting  time. 

It  was  at  last  agreed  that  the  ordeal  should  take 
place.  Savonarola  was  forced  to  withdraw  his  oppo- 
sition. It  is  said  that  he  was  encouraged  by  a  vision 
of  Frk  Salvestro,  who  declared  that  he  had  seen  the 
angels  of  Frk  Girolamo  and  Frk  Domenico,  who  had 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE, 


zn 


be  burned, 
e  would  be 

!ompagnacci 
Dolfo  Spini 
o  were  only 
(sition.  Pri- 
there  would 
ire ;  and  the 
He  had  no 
i  Girolamo, 
e  made :  he 
id  he  added 
nstance  and 

le  accord  in 

)   far,  and  it 

Burlamacchi 

er  approved 

m  condition 

princes  and 

irement  was 

St  suspicion 

ing  the  trial, 

fulness.     His 

e  vain,  and 

purpose  of 

I  should  take 
his  oppo- 
by  a  vision 
id  seen  the 
to,  who  had 


assured  him  that  these  brethren  would  come  out  of  the 
fire  unhurt.  This  Frk  Salvestro,  or  Salvestro  Maruffi, 
was  a  man  who  had  an  influence  over  Savonarola  out 
of  all  proportion  to  his  real  power.  He  was  one  of 
those  weak,  nervous,  emotional  people  who  are  unable 
to  distinguish  between  facts  and  fancies,  between 
reality  and  imagination;  and  his  power  of  converting 
his  wishes  and  the  impressions  made  upon  him  by  the 
teaching  and  preaching  of  Savonarola  into  visions  and 
revelations  was  a  gift  most  dangerous  to  himself  and 
others.  But  in  this  matter  the  whole  brotherhood 
were  of  one  mind.  They  came  forward  in  a  body  to 
offer  themselves  for  the  Sperimento.  For  every  Fran- 
ciscan that  would  enter  the  fire,  there  was  a  Dominican 
ready  to  go  along  with  him.  After  several  had  an- 
nounced their  willingness  to  undergo  the  ordeal,  on 
the  second  of  April,  Frk  Malatesta  Sacramoro  da 
Rimini  and  Fr^  Roberto  di  Bernardo  Salviati  da  Firenze 
subscribed  the  challenge.  The  "Ten"  sent  an  ac- 
count of  the  proceedings  to  Rome,  together  with  the 
reasons  assigned  by  the  brethren  of  St.  Mark  for  ac- 
cepting the  trial.  It  was  finally  agreed  that  Fr4 
Domenico  alone,  on  the  side  of  St.  Mark's,  should 
undergo  the  ordeal,  and  that  the  Franciscans  should 
be  represented  by  Giuliano  Rondinelli,  Francesco  pro- 
fessing his  readiness  to  go  into  the  fire,  provided 
Savonarola  would  do  the  same. 

The  sixth  of  April  was  originally  fixed  as  the  day 
by  the  Signoria  ;  but  they  put  off  the  trial  to  the  seventh. 
It  is  believed  that  they  had  some  hope  that  a  brief 
might  arrive  from  Rome  forbidding  the  "  experiment " 
to  take  place.  In  this,  however,  they  were  disap- 
pointed.    The  place  appointed  for  the   ordeal  was  a 


314 


SAVONAROLA. 


platform,  about  eighty  feet  in  length,  ten  in  breadth, 
and  three  in  height,  which  extender  from  the  Tetto 
de'  Pisani,  on  the  western  side  of  the  Piazza,  to  the 
Marzocco,  the  marble  lion,  which  stands  in  front  of 
the  Palazzo  Vecchio.  The  platform  was  covered 
with  earth  and  bricks,  and  was  piled  up  with  wood  and 
other  more  combustible  materials,  leaving  a  passage 
in  the  middle,  four  feet  in  width,  for  the  two  men  to 
walk  in.  It  was  arranged  that  it  should  be  lighted  at 
one  end,  that  they  should  enter  at  the  other,  and 
then  that  the  pile  should  be  lighted  behind  them. 

On  the  morning  of  April  7th,  the  monks  of  St. 
Mark's,  who  had  spent  several  days  in  constant 
prayer,  assembled  for  the  celebration  of  a  solemn 
mass,  "  their  hearts  full  of  such  joy,'*  says  Burla- 
macchi,  "that  it  showed  itself  on  their  countenances, 
through  the  certainty  of  victory"  Still  it  was  an 
awful  moment,  and  Savonarola  addressed  them  with 
unusual  solemnity  and  diffidence.  He  had  no  faith 
in  the  intentions  of  his  adversaries ;  he  probably  knew 
that  the  Signoria  were  embarrassed  as  to  the  lawful- 
ness of  the  trial  which  they  had  sanctioned,  and  he 
showed  in  his  words  the  hesitation  inspired  by  these 
considerations. 


"  I  cannot  be  certain,"  he  said,  "  that  the  ordeal  will 
take  place,  because  this  matter  does  not  depend  upon  us  ; 
but  I  am  able  to  tell  you  that,  if  we  come  to  the  event, 
the  victory  will  certainly  be  ours.  O  Lord,  we  have  no 
need  of  these  miraculous  proofs  in  order  to  believe  in  the 
truth;  but  w  -  have  been  challenged,  and  we  could  not 
refuse  to  deiend  Thine  honor!  We  are  sure  that  the 
devil  will  not  be  able  to  turn  this  thing  to  the  injury  of 
Thine  honor,  or  against  Thy  will ;  so  that  we  go  to  do 


^1^ 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE. 


315 


in  breadth, 

I  the  Tetto 
azza,  to  the 
in  front  of 
as  covered 
:h  wood  and 
;  a  passage 
two  men  to 
)e  lighted  at 

other,  and 
them. 

lonks  of  St. 
in  constant 
)f  a  solemn 

says  Burla- 
ountenances, 

II  it  was  an 
I  them  with 
had  no  faith 
obably  knew 

the  lawful- 
ed,  and  he 
ed  by  these 


e  ordeal  will 

|end  upon  us ; 

to  the  event, 

we  have  no 

)elieve  in  the 

re  could  not 

lure  that  the 

|the  injury  of 

re  go  to  do 


battle  for  Thee.  But  these  adversaries  of  ours  adore 
another  god,  for  their  works  are  different  from  ours.  O 
Lord,  this  people  wishes  only  to  serve  Thee  !  " 

Then,  turning  to  the  people,  he  asked,  "  My  people, 
are  you  willing  to  serve  God?"  Every  voice  an- 
swered, "  Yes ; "  and  then  he  bade  the  men  ofifer  up 
prayer  while  he  was  preparing  the  brethren  to  go  forth, 
and  the  women  to  continue  in  prayer  until  they  re- 
turned. By  the  time  the  preparations  were  finished, 
a  message  arrived  from  the  Signoria  to  signify  that  all 
was  now  in  readiness  for  the  trial. 

A  strong  guard  of  soldiers  had  been  placed  on  the 
Piazza  by  the  Signoria  to  prevent  outrage  and  disturb- 
ances ;  but  each  party  had  taken  the  precaution  to  arm 
their  own  adherents  and  station  them  near  the  scene. 
The  Arrabbiati  had  five  hundred  men  under  Dolfo 
Spini,  and  the  Frateschi  three  hundred  under  Marcuccio 
Salviati. 

The  adherents  of  the  Frate  formed  their  line  of  pro- 
cession in  the  piazza  of  San  Marco.  First  came  the 
acolytes,  and  after  them  the  friars ;  last  of  these  Yx\ 
Domenico,  attired  in  a  red  vestment,^  with  a  crucifix  in 
his  hand,  a  deacon  and  a  sub-deacon  walking  on  either 
side  of  him.  Last  of  all  came  Savonarola,  in  a  white 
cope,  bearing  in  his  hand  a  silver  reliquary  which  con- 
tained the  blessed  Sacrament  j  on  one  side  of  him  Fr^ 
Francesco  Salviati,  on  the  other  Fr^  Malatesta  Sacra- 
moro,  also  wearing  copes..  The  face  of  Frk  Domenico 
was  calm  and  joyous,  as  of  one  going  to  certain  victory. 
Behind  them  came  a  great  multitude  of  men  and  women, 
carrying  lighted  tapers  in  their  hands.     The  singers  led 

^  Burlamacchi  seems  to  say  a  chasuble,  others  a  cope.  I  fol* 
low  Burlamacchi  chiefly  in  this  account. 


\  \  ' 


s  - 


ti; 


I, 


: 


1 


'■/i 


i   ■ 
I    / 


li 


316 


SAVONAROLA. 


off,  in  a  loud  voice,  the  68th  Psalm  :  Exurgat  Deus^  et 
dissipentur  inimici  Ejus^  —  "  Let  God  arise,  and  let  His 
enemies  be  scattered."  As  they  entered  the  Piazza  the 
people  took  up  the  psalm,  and  the  earth  seemed  to 
tremble  under  the  tramp  of  multitudinous  feet. 

The  Loggia  de'  Lanzi  had  been  set  apart  for  the  two 
bodies  of  friars,  the  Dominicans  occupying  the  western 
division,  and  the  Franciscans  the  eastern.  The  latter 
were  already  stationed  in  the  place  allotted  to  them,  and 
standing  silent,  when  the  Frateschi  marched  into  the 
square  to  the  thunder  of  their  psalm,  and  took  their 
places.  But  now  it  was  found  that  FrA  Giuliano  Rondi- 
nelli,  the  champion  of  the  adversaries,  was  not  there. 

Up  to  this  time  Savonarola  appears  to  have  been  tor- 
tured with  doubt  as  to  the  rightness  of  the  trial  which 
he  had  been  forced  to  sanction.  But  now  all  misgivings 
seemed  to  vanish.  He  felt  assured  that  his  cause  was 
the  cause  of  righteousness  and  of  God,  that  he  had  not 
chosen  this  mode  of  vindicating  himself,  and  that  God 
would  be  with  him.  He  saw  depicted  on  the  face  of 
Fr^  Domenico  a  joyful  eagerness  to  undergo  the  trial ; 
and  he  was  anxious  that  it  should  begin  at  once.  But 
the  challengers  did  not  appear.  They  were  still  in  the 
Palazzo,  in  consultation  with  the  Signoria.  The  rin- 
ghiera,  from  which  the  Signoria  were  to  watch  the  pro- 
cess, was  empty.  Instead  of  coming  forth  and  bringing 
the  Franciscans  to  the  appointed  spot,  they  sent  a  mes- 
sage to  Savonarola,  asking  why  he  did  not  begin. 

The  accounts  of  this  scene  are  tolerably  consistent, 
and  they  show  that  the  party  opposed  to  Savonarola  had 
no  real  intention  of  undergoing  the  ordeal.  All  their 
efforts  were  directed  to  inducing  him  to  enter  the  fire 
alone,  or  take  the  responsibility  of  retreating  from  the 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE. 


317 


rgat  Deus^  et 
;,  and  let  His 
he  Piazza  the 
:h  seemed  to 
3  feet. 

irt  for  the  two 
g  the  western 
1.  The  latter 
[  to  them,  and 
:hed  into  the 
nd  took  their 
iuliano  Rondi- 

not  there, 
have  been  tor- 
;he  trial  which 
^  all  misgivings 

his  cause  was 
hat  he  had  not 

and  that  God 
jn  the  face  of 
lergo  the  trial ; 

at  once.     But 

ere  still  in  the 

ia.     The  m- 
|watch  the  pro- 
and  bringing 

ley  sent  a  mes- 

it  begin. 

>ly  consistent, 

•avonarola  had 
al.  All  their 
enter  the  fire 

Lting  from  the 


trial.  In  either  case  they  were  victorious.  Nay,  more, 
they  knew  that  if  anything  should  happen  to  prevent 
the  ordeal  being  gone  through,  the  popular  fury  would 
turn  against  Savonarola,  because  he  was  the  man  whose 
claims  and  whose  doctrines  were  in  question. 

Hence  they  began  to  invent  every  possible  pretext 
for  delay.  First  of  all  they  declared  that  the  red  vest- 
ment worn  by  Frh  Domenico  had  been  enchanted  by 
Savonarola,  and  insisted  on  his  taking  it  off  before  he 
entered  the  fire.  To  this  the  Dominicans  consented, 
although  at  the  same  time  they  declared  that  the  de- 
mand was  absurd,  as  they  did  not  believe  in  incanta- 
tions. The  Franciscans  next  said  that  his  habit  might 
also  be  enchanted,  and  he  consented  to  retire  and  ex- 
change dresses  with  anothef  of  the  brethren  of  St.  Mark. 
But  still  they  feared  to  let  him  stand  beside  Fr^  Giro- 
lamo,  lest  he  should  enchant  this  habit  as  well ;  and  so 
he  consented  to  be  placed  between  two  Franciscans. 
And  now  he  insisted  that  the  trial  should  begin ;  he  had 
complied  with  their  wishes,  and  there  could  be  no  rea- 
son for  further  delay. 

But  still  his  opponent  did  not  appear.  People  were 
going  to  and  fro  among  the  Franciscans,  showing  their 
sympathy  with  that  side,  and  sneering  at  the  Dominicans 
because  thsy  would  not  ascend  the  platform  alone.  Sa- 
vonarola became  impatient,  and  demanded  that  the  Fran- 
ciscans should  appear ;  but  it  was  becoming  more  and 
more  apparent  that  they  had  no  intention  of  doing  so. 
ttUfie  people  now.began  to  give  signs  of  restlessness  and 
indignation.  They  had  come  there  to  see  the  Frati 
enter  the  fire,  and  no  one  would  gratify  them.  The  en- 
emies of  Savonarola  took  advantage  of  their  impatience, 
and  stimulated  them  to  cry  for  the  beginning  of  the 


r    }; 


r.  ' 


i  ^ 


1 


f  I 


I    I 


M' 


.1 

1^ 


318  SAVONAROLA, 

Sperimento^X  It  had  been  the  hope  of  the  Arrabbiatl 
that,  in  case  of  a  tumult  arising,  they  might  be  able  to 
lay  hold  on  the  Frate  and  despatch  him  without  further 
trouble.  They  now  believed  they  saw  their  opportunity. 
Stationed  under  the  Tetto  de'  Pisani,  they  occupied  the 
side  of  the  Piazza  nearest  to  the  Dominicans.  They  be- 
gan to  advance  towards  the  place  where  Savonarola  was 
standing ;  but  their  attempt  was  observed  by  Salviati,  who, 
keeping  his  men  in  their  place  in  front  of  the  Loggia, 
made  a  line  on  the  ground  with  his  sword,  and  shouted, 
"  Whoever  passes  this  line  shall  know  the  strength  of 
the  arms  of  Marcuccio  Salviati,"  which  stopped  the 
movement. 

The  Signoria  were  perplexed,  and  knew  not  how  to  act, 
when  suddenly  a  thunderstorm  broke  over  the  city,  and 
heavy  rain  began  to  descend.  But  the  people  would 
not  be  driven  from  their  purpose,  and  remained  standing 
in  the  Piazza  until  the  rain  ceased.  Still  the  Franciscan 
did  not  appear ;  and  his  party  began  to  invent  new  rea- 
sons for  delay,  and  to  make  new  complaints  of  the  con- 
duct of  their  opponents.  Fri  Domenico  had  walked 
forth  from  St.  Mark's  bearing  the  crucifix  in  his  hands, 
and  now  they  demanded  that  this  should  be  given  up. 
Savonarola  advised  .'  i  to  do  so,  and  bid  him  enter  the 
fire  with  the  Sacrament  in  his  hand.  Burlamacchi  says 
that  Fri  Salvestro  had  seen  a  vision,  in  which  it  was  re- 
vealed that  Domenico  should  not  undergo  the  ordeal 
without  bearing  the  Sacrament  with  him.  The  Francis- 
cans then  objected  that  such  a  course  involved  a  fearful 
sacrilege,  as  the  host  would  be  burned.  It  was  of  no  avail 
that  it  was  answered  that  the  accidents  only  could  per- 
ish, —  a  proposition  which  was  supported  by  the  authority 
of  many  doctors  of  the  Church.    For  the  first  time  the 


, 


THE  ORDEAL  BY  FIRE. 


319 


\e  Arrabbiati 
ht  be  able  to 
ilhout  further 
■  opportunity, 
occupied  the 
js.  Theybe- 
ivonarola  was 
'  Salviati,  who, 
)f  the  Loggia, 

and  shouted, 
e   strength  of 

stopped  the 

lot  how  to  act, 
r  the  city,  and 
people  would 
lained  standing 
the  Franciscan 
invent  new  rea- 
nts  of  the  con- 
:o  had  walked 
)c  in  his  hands, 
I  be  given  up. 
I  him  enter  the 
irlamacchi  says 
irhich  it  was  re- 
rgo  the  ordeal 
The  Francis- 
srolved  a  fearful 
was  of  no  avail 
inly  could  per- 
ly  the  authority 
le  first  time  the 


party  of  Savonarola  resisted  the  demands  of  their  ad- 
versaries. They  now  had  the  pretext  they  had  been 
seeking  for  refusing  to  go  on  with  the  trial.  Both  sides 
stood  firm ;  and  in  the  midst  of  the  dispute  the  Signoria 
sent  their  command  that  the  ordeal  should  not  take 
place. 

The  spectators  were  furious.  They  had  waited  for 
hours  to  see  the  doctrines  of  the  Frate  put  to  the  proof, 
and  now  they  were  to  be  baulked.  They  forgot  that  it 
was  the  Franciscans  who  had  refused  the  test,  and 
thought  only  of  the  fact  that  it  had  not  been  undergone 
by  the  man  who,  they  were  made  to  believe,  had  oc- 
casioned the  challenge.  Even  the  Piagnoni  began  to 
exclaim  that  the  Frate  ought  himself  to  have  entered 
the  fire,  and  thus  finally  have  vindicated  the  truth  of  his 
doctrine.  4^H is  enemies  went  about  among  the  people 
declaring  that  now  the  falsehood  of  his  preteiibions  was 
demonstratedr/  The  Franciscans  began  to  depart  in  tri- 
umph, having  accomplished  their  purpose.  They  had 
disgraced  their  enemy  and  turned  the  fury  of  the  pop- 
ulace upon  him.  Returning  to  Santa  Croce,  they  sang 
a  solemn  Te  Deum  in  celebration  of  their  victory. 

Savonarola,  seeing  the  danger  to  which  his  brethren 
were  exposed  from  the  rage  of  the  mob,  requested  a 
guard  from  the  Signoria  to  protect  them  on  their  way 
back  to  San  Marco.  Upon  this,  Marcuccio  Salviati 
brought  forward  a  band  of  his  most  trusted  and  coura- 
geous soldiers,  and  forming  them  into  a  crescent  {iufia), 
said,  "  Father,  follow  me,  for  I  will  defend  you  as  long 
as  my  life  shall  last ;  "  and  so  receiving  Savonarola  and 
the  brethren  into  the  midst  of  his  men,  conducted  them 
back  to  the  convent. 

Savonarola,  returning  to  the  church,  found  the  women 


I  I 


I 


320 


SAVONAROLA, 


Still  kneeling  in  prayer,  and  gave  them  an  account  of  all 
that  had  happened.  He  then  returned,  weary  and  sad, 
to  his  cell.  The  howls  of  the  disappointed  mob  that 
filled  the  piazza  of  San  Marco  came  into  his  ears  as  he 
knelt  in  sorrowful  prayer,  and  told  him  with  no  doubtful 
meaning  of  the  days  that  were  approaching. 


MARTYRDOM. 


321 


iccount  of  all 
eary  and  sad, 
ed  mob  that 
lis  ears  as  he 
h  no  doubtful 


v  ,  vv 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


MARTYRDOM. 


The  ordeal  by  fire  was  the  beginning,  of  the  end. 
Savonarola  had  lost  his  hold  on  the  people  of  Florence, 
and  he  was  not  destined  to  recover  it.  Whether  there 
was  still  a  possibility  of  his  regaining  his  former  sway  if 
different  measures  had  been  taken,  is  open  to  discus- 
sion; but  those  measures  were  not  taken.  To  many 
of  the  Frateschi  it  became  at  once  apparent  tha*  active 
preparations  must  be  made  to  defend  themselves,  per- 
haps even  to  assume  the  offensive.  This  was  the  view 
of  Luca  degli  Albizzi  and  others ;  but  Valori,  strong  in 
the  righteousness  of  their  cause,  would  not  hear  of  it. 
Albizzi  and  many  others  declared  that  this  inaction  was 
throwing  away  their  lives,  and  instantly  left  Florence,  to 
provide  for  their  own  safety. 

A  speedy  collision  seemed  inevitable ;  and  the  Pla- 
gnoni  were  certainly  imprudent,  in  so  far  as  they  neither 
prepared  for  it  nor  avoided  it.  They  appeared  to  catch 
the  spirit  of  the  sorrowful  words  which  their  leader  ad- 
dressed to  them  on  the  morning  of  Palm  Sunday,  the 
day  after  the  ordeal.  He  seemed  to  be  aware  that  he 
was  speaking  to  them  for  the  last  time,  and  he  expressed 
himself  ready  for  the  sacrifice,  prepared  to  give  his  life 
for  his  flock.  After  vespers  at  St.  Mark's  the  Piagnoni 
proceeded  to  the  cathedral  to  hear  the  sermon,  which 
during  Savonarola's  retirement  had  been  preached  In 
Lent  by  Mariano  degli  Ughi,  one  of  the  brethren  who 

•1 


1 


i    : 
i 

'    %. 


322 


SAVONAROLA. 


il     '. 


*i 


had  offered  to  undergo  the  ordeal  on  behalf  of  Fri  Giro- 
lamo.  The  Arrabbiati  were  determined  to  prevent  the 
sermon.  The  Piagnoni  were  assaulted  on  their  way  to 
the  Duomo.  In  the  church  itself  noisy  discussions  took 
place.  The  Signoria  were  that  day  deciding  that  Savo- 
narola should  be  banished  from  Florence,  and  the  broth- 
ers inhibited  from  preaching.  Whatever  opposition  to 
extreme  measures  had  previously  existed  seemed  to  have 
been  removed  by  the  events  of  the  previous  day.  The 
Compagnacci  had  probably  become  aware  of  this  deci- 
sion. From  words  they  proceeded  to  blows;  and  at 
last  the  cry  was  raised  :  "  To  San  Marco  ! "  and  "  With 
fire!" 

,  The  signal  once  given,  they  lost  no  time  in  carrying 
out  their  purpose.  Rushing  furiously  along  the  streets, 
they  killed  on  their  way  two  known  adherents  of  the 
Frate.  A  number  of  the  congregation  had  remained  at 
St.  Mark's  after  vespers,  and  were  engaged  in  prayer  in 
the  church.  A  shower  of  stones  was  poured  into  the 
building  by  the  assailants.  The  women  and  the  princi- 
pal part  of  the  worshippers  hastily  dispersed  in  terror. 
The  doors  were  closed  and  locked,  and  only  a  few  of 
the  citizens  remained  to  defend  the  convent.  It  is  said 
there  were  about  thirty  of  them,  some  of  the  most  loyal 
and  devoted  of  Savonarola's  adherents. 

Although  they  had  not  been  able  to  agree  as  to 
concerted  measures  for  self-defence,  yet  some  of  the 
brethren,  foremost  among  them  Fr^  Benedetto,*  had 


1  Frk  Benedetto  was  one  of  the  most  loyal  and  devoted  of 
the  adherents  of  Savonarola.  After  his  master's  death  he  was 
first  exiled,  and  then  long  imprisoned  for  his  attachment  to  him. 
He  was  at  this  time  about  twenty-four  years  of  age.  Cf  Padre 
Marchese  in  the  Archivio  Istorioo. 


MARTYRDOM. 


l^~Z 


'  of  Fr^i  Giro- 
prevent  the 
their  way  to 
:ussions  took 
ng  that  Savo- 
nd  the  broth- 
Dpposition  to 
emed  to  have 
us  day.    The 
of  this  deci- 
lows;  and  at 
"  and  "With 

le  in  carrying 
ng  the  streets, 
lerents  of  the 
id  remained  at 
;d  in  prayer  in 
Dured  into  the 
ind  the  princi- 
irsed  in  terror. 

only  a  few  of 
lent.     It  is  said 

the  most  loyal 

to  agree  as  to 

|t  some  of  the 

;nedetto,*  had 

and  devoted  of 

's  death  he  was 

Itachment  to  him. 

age.    Cf  Padre 


collected  a  quantity  of  arms  and  ammunition,  withont 
the  knowledge  of  Savonarola,  for  use  in  case  violence 
should  be  attempted  against  them.  When  the  assault 
( ommenced,  they  prepared  for  the  defence.  Fra 
Benedetto,,  with  a  helmet  on  his  head  and  a  breastplate 
over  his  Dominican  habit,  was  rallying  his  forces ;  and 
shouts  of  Viva  Crista  !  were  heard  mingling  with  the 
noise  of  armor,  disturbing  the  quiet  of  those  cloisters 
so  long  the  abode  of  silence,  prayer,  and  meditation. 

Savonarola  and  Frk  Domenico  endeavored  in  vain 
to  appease  the  tumult,  and  entreated  the  brethren  to 
lay  aside  their  armor.  When  words  could  avail  nothing, 
Savonarola,  attiring  himself  in  a  cope,  and  taking  a 
crucifix  in  his  hand,  proposed  to  go  forth  and  offer 
himself  a  sacrifice  to  the  mob,  "  as  it  was  on  his 
account  that  the  storm  had  arisen."  Held  back  by 
the  lamentations  of  his  friends,  he  then  took  the  Sacra- 
ment in  his  hands,  and  calling  upon  the  brethren  to 
follow  him,  he  went  in  procession  around  the  cloisters, 
and  afterwards  proceeding  to  the  choir,  told  them  that 
prayer  was  their  only  lawful  weapon.  Nearly  the  whole 
of  the  community  joined  him  in  prayer,  singing  before 
the  sacrament :  Saivum  fac  pupulum  Tuuniy  Domine, 
—  "  Save  Thy  people,  O  Lord  !  " 

It  was  probably  about  this  time  that  a  messenger 
arrived  from  the  Signoria,  bearing  the  news  that  Savo- 
narola had  been  sentenced  to  exile,  and  ordering  him 
to  leave  the  tenitory  of  the  State  within  twelve  hours. 
The  tumult  without  was  waxing  louder,  the  assailants 
probably  being  emboldened  by  the  absence  of  re- 
sistance from  within.  Savonarola  seems  to  have  re- 
mained in  the  choir  in  prayer,  there  awaiting  the  issue 
of  events.    Francesco  Valori,  at  last  convinced  of  the 


j 


/ 


^    I 


A- 


I 


324 


SAVONAROLA. 


wisdom  of  the  advice  which  he  had  rejected,  got  over 
the  walls  at  the  back  of  the  convent,  hoping  to  raise 
the  Piagnoni  in  defence  of  their  master.  If  Marcuccio 
Salviati  could  have  been  there  at  once  with  his  Iron- 
sides, all  might  have  been  different ;  but  it  was  not  so 
ordered.  Valori  hastened  home  to  make  his  prepara- 
tions, but  was  instantly  summoned  to  appear  before 
the  Signoria.  Confident  in  the  righteousness  of  his 
cause,  he  at  once  obeyed.  But  the  days  of  bis 
supremacy  had  not  been  forgotten,  nor  the  death  of 
the  Medicean  conspirators,  which  had  been  in  great 
measure  his  work.  Members  of  the  Tornabuoni  and 
Ridolfi  families  set  upon  him  and  killed  him  under  the 
eyes  of  his  wife,  who,  hearing  the  tumult  as  he  left  the 
house,  had  rushed  to  the  window.  They  perished 
together;  she  was  shot  from  the  street  as  she  looked 
upon  the  murder  of  her  husband,  and  their  house  was 
immediately  sacked  and  burned. 

The  assault  on  the  convent  waxed  fiercer,  and  fire 
was  now  applied  to  burn  down  the  doors.  The 
brethren  flew  again  to  arms.  The  enemy  had  pene- 
trated into  the  cloisters  and  into  the  church.  Fri 
Benedetto,  again  marshalling  his  forces,  poured  down 
upon  them  a  shower  of  stones  and  missiles  of  every 
description.  The  friars  met  their  assailants  with  deter- 
mined courage,  striking  with  whatever  weapons  they 
could  lay  hold  of.  Those  who  had  nothing  better 
used  their  crucifixes ;  some,  it  is  said,  had  attached 
pikes  and  knives  to  the  burning  tapers  they  had  been 
carrying,  and  struck  home  with  such  vigor  that  they 
seemed  to  their  adversaries  under  supernatural  guid- 
ance. The  grotesque  and  the  pathetic  were  curiously 
mingled  in  thid  strange  conflict.     Burlamacchi  tells  us 


MARTYRDOM. 


325 


:d,  got  over 
ing  to  raise 
f  Marcuccio 
th  his  Iron- 
t  was  not  so 
his  prepara- 
ppear  before 
isness  of  his 
days  of    h.s 
the  death  of 
leen  in  great 
rnabuoni  and 
lim  under  the 
as  he  left  the 
hey  perished 
IS  she  looked 
leir  house  was 

ercer,  and  fire 
doors.      The 
ly  had  pene- 
church.    Frk 
poured  down 
isiles  of  every 
[nts  with  deter- 
weapons  they 
lothing  better 
had  attached 
[they  had  been 
igor  that  they 
irnatural  guid- 
iwere  curiously 
^acchi  tells  us 


of  a  certain  German  Frate,  named  Herico  (Heinrich, 
no  doubt),  who,  in  defending  the  choir,  "  got  up  into 
the  pulpit  with  an  arquebuse,  and  shot  a  good  many  of 
the  enemy  in  the  church,  exclaiming  as  he  fired, 
Salvum  fac  populum  Tuum^  Domine^  et  benedic  hcaredi- 
tati  Tuce,*  taking  up  the  refrain  of  the  psalm  which 
Savonarola  had  made  them  sing  before  the  Sacra- 
ment. The  vicar  and  some  of  the  brethren  were 
still  before  the  altar  in  prayer;  sometimes  ministering 
to  the  wounded  and  dying.  While  Herico  is  dischar- 
ging his  arquebuse  from  the  pulpit,  and  stones  and 
sticks  are  flying  in  all  directions,  there  is  a  youth 
wounded  to  death  borne  into  the  choir,  who  receives 
the  Sacrament  at  the  hands  of  Frk  Domenico,  mur- 
muring, as  he  dies,  happy  in  dying  near  his  beloved 
teacher :  Ecce  quant  bonum  et  quam  jucundum  habitare 
fratres  in  unum,  —  "  Behold  how  good  and  pleasant  it 
is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together." 

It  has  been  the  opinion  of  many  that  the  brethren 
were  quite  holding  their  own  against  the  mob,  and 
might,  with  the  assistance  of  their  friends,  have  driven 
them  off;  but  the  Signoria  now  began  to  take  more 
active  part  in  the  quarrel.  There  is  no  doubt  that  they 
had  become  the  declared  enemies  of  Savonarola.  To 
keep  up  appearances  they  seem  to  have  issued  simul- 
taneously a  decree  declaring  the  assailants  of  St.  Mark's 
rebels,  and  another  giving  the  same  name  to  all  those 
of  the  brethren  who  did  not  leave  St.  Mark's  within  an 
hour;  demanding  at  the  same  time  the  surrender  of 
Fra  Girolamo,  Frk  Domenico,  and  Fra  Salvestro. 

By  these  means  assistance  was  rendered  to  the 
besiegers,  who  pushed  forward  and  burned  down  the 
door  of  the   choir,  forcing  an   entrance  there.    The 


■*i» 


326 


SAVONAROLA. 


i 


ii 


defenders  retreated  behind  the  high  altar,  our  German 
and  another  brother,  also  armed  with  an  arquebuse, 
pouring  their  shots  from  both  sides  of  the  great  crucifix. 
How  far  Savonarola  had  taken  part  in  this  conflict  is 
doubtful.  He  had  successfully  interposed  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  assault,  and  had  induced  the  brethren 
to  lay  down  their  arms.  A  fresh  attack  had  been 
begun,  and  hostilities  had  been  resumed,  while  he  was 
at  prayer  in  the  choir.  Some  of  the  assailants  having 
broken  into  the  convent,  they  and  the  besieged  had 
got  mingled  together,  so  that  any  effort  to  put  an  end 
to  the  conflict  was  hopeless,  and  his  friends  would  not 
allow  Savonarola  to  expose  his  own  person.  When 
the  choir  was  broken  into,  he  took  again  the  Sacra- 
ment in  his  hands,  and  beseeching  the  brethren  to 
follow  him,  he  proceeded  to  the  Libreria  Greca  (the 
Convent  Library),  and  there  prepared  himself  for  the 
end.  Gathering  around  him  such  of  the  members  of 
the  fraternity  as  could  be  collected,  he  addressed  to  them 
the  last  words  he  was  to  speak  within  those  walls. 

*'  My  children,"  he  said,  "  before  God,  before  the  con- 
secrated Host,  with  the  enemy  already  in  the  convent,  I 
confirm  to  you  my  doctrine.  That  which  I  have  spoken 
I  have  received  from  God,  and  He  is  my  witness  in  heaven 
that  I  do  not  lie.  I  did  not  know  that  the  whole  city  was 
to  turn  against  me ;  but  the  will  of  the  Lord  be  done.  My 
last  counsel  is  this:  let  faith,  patience,  and  prayers  be 
your  arms.  I  leave  you  with  anguish  and  grief,  to  put 
myself  into  the  hands  of  my  enemies.  I  know  not  whether 
they  will  take  away  my  life;  but  I  am  certain  that  if  I 
must  die,  I  shall  be  able  to  aid  you  in  heaven  more  than 
I  have  been  able  to  do  on  earth.  Be  comforted,  embrace 
the  cross,  and  with  that  you  will  find  the  harbor  of 
safety."  > 


MARTYRDOM. 


327 


ur  German 
arquebuse, 
:at  crucifix, 
conflict  is 
at  the  be- 
le  brethren 
had  been 
■hile  he  was 
ants  having 
:sieged   had 
put  an  end 
s  would  not 
5on.    When 
the  Sacra- 
brethren  to 
Greca  (the 
nself  for  the 
members  of 
ssed  to  them 
walls. 

fore  the  con- 
e  convent,  I 
lave  spoken 
ess  in  heaven 
lole  city  was 
)e  done.    My 
prayers  be 
grief,  to  put 
not  whether 
ain  that  if  I 
n  more  than 
ted,  embrace 
le  harbor  of 


The  commander  of  the  guard  of  the  palace  now 
appeared  with  a  written  order  from  the  Signoria, 
requiring  that  the  three  friars  should  be  immediately 
given  up,  and  enforcing  the  demand  with  a  threat  to 
destroy  the  convent  by  artillery.^  Several  of  the 
brethren  entreated  their  prior  to  save  himself  by  flight ; 
and  for  a  moment  he  seemed  to  hesitate.  His  course 
was  finally  decided  by  the  counsel  of  Frk  Malatesta 
Sacramoro.  This  man  had  been  an  ardent  believer  in 
the  teachings  of  his  master ;  he  had  gone  so  far  as  to 
offer  himself  for  the  ordeal.  The  failure  of  that  project 
and  the  subsequent  conduct  of  the  people  had  changed 
the  faithful  disciple  into  a  Judas.  It  is  the  name  given 
to  him  by  Savonarola's  friends,  especially  by  Frk 
Benedetto,  who  was  a  witness  of  all  that  took  place. 
He  now  turned  against  the  Frate,  through  fear  or  some 
revulsion  of  feeling.  While  others  were  urging  Savo- 
narola to  flee,  he  interposed  with  the  plausible  question, 
"  Ought  not  the  shepherd  to  lay  down  his  life  for  the 
sheep?"  Savonarola  was  deeply  touched  by  these 
words.  Turning  to  the  brethren,  he  gave  them,  and 
first  among  them  Malatesta  himself,  a  last  embrace. 
Salvestro  had  hidden  himself.'*  With  the  faithful  and 
ever  resolute  Domenico  by  his  side,  he  went  forth  and 
gave  himself  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies.  He  would 
not  leave  the  convent  without  speaking  one  last  word  of 
comfort  to  the  afflicted  brethren.     "  My  dear  brothers 

1  Villari  says  that  this  had  been  suggested  by  ¥xk  Malatesta 
Sacramoro;  I  cannot  find  the  authority  for  this  statement. 
Burlamacchi  says  it  had  been  required  by  Savonarola  himself. 

^  Vasari  says  that  Fr4  Bartolommeo  also  concealed  himself. 
It  is  possible,  and  not  discreditable ;  but  there  is  no  contempo- 
rary evidence,  and  Vasari  is  a  very  untrustworthy  authority. 


i 


328 


SAVONAROLA. 


; 


1 


{FrateUi  miet)"  he  said,  "remember  you  have  no 
need  to  doubt.  The  work  of  the  Lord  will  ever  go 
forwards,  and  my  death  will  only  hasten  it." 

If  the  change  of  fortune  had  made  friends  to  fall 
away,  it  had  strengthened  the  attachment  of  others. 
An  impressive  scene  took  place  shortly  before  he  left 
the  library.  A  young  man  named  Girolamo  Gini  had 
been  long  desirous  of  taking  the  habit  at  St.  Mark's,  and 
was  in  the  church  when  the  siege  of  the  convent  began. 
He  had  laid  down  his  arms  at  the  command  of  the  Frate, 
but  he  had  resolved  to  show  his  devotion  to  his  cause. 
When  the  enemy  broke  into  the  cloisters  he  had  run 
into  the  midst  of  them,  armed  only  with  his  crucifix,  as 
if  to  seek  death.  Seriously  wounded,  he  hastened  back 
to  the  library,  and  kneeling  down  before  the  Frate,  he 
requested  now  to  be  received  into  the  brotherhood. 
It  was  Savonarola's  last  act  of  authority  to  grant  his 
request.^ 

If  the  enemies  of  Savonarola  had  resolved  and  planned 
that  his  persecutions,  his  sufferings,  and  the  circum- 
stances of  his  death  should  resemble  those  of  his  Divine 
Master  as  nearly  as  possible,  they  could  hardly  have 
acted  differently  towards  him  from  this  moment  to  the 
hour  of  his  death.  No  sooner  was  he  in  the  hands  of 
the  soldiers  than  the  mob  crowded  round  him  and 
heaped  upon  him  every  imaginable  insult.  They  raised 
cries  of  joy,  of  execration,  of  blasphemous  reproach. 
It  was  now  about  eight  o'clock,  and  many  bore  torches 
and  lanterns.  Turning  these  upon  his  face,  they  cried 
out,  "  There  goes  the  true  light."     They  rushed  against 

1  Other  proofs  of  devotion  were  given.  Fri  Benedetto  cast 
himself  into  the  crowds  and  asked  that  he  should  be  taken  along 
with  his  master.  , .  ,    .  .  , 


MARTYRDOM, 


329 


him  and  struck  him,  exclaiming,  "  Prophesy,  who  is  it 
that  smote  thee  ? "  They  kicked  him  behind,  and 
howled  in  derision,  "It  is  there  he  has  the  gift  of 
prophecy."  It  was  with  difficulty  the  officers  were  able 
to  conduct  him  to  the  Palazzo.  He  was  at  once  brought 
before  the  gonfaloniere,  who  asked  him  if  he  persisted 
in  his  assertion  that  he  had  spoken  by  divine  revelation. 
When  he  and  Fr^  Domenico  answered  in  the  affirmative, 
they  were  immediately  committed  to  custody.  The  cell 
in  which  he  was  confined  is  still  shown ;  it  was  the  same 
in  which  Cosimo  de'  Medici  had  been  imprisoned  by 
the  Albizzi.  The  Signoria  had  promised  when  he  gave 
himself  up  that  he  should  be  set  at  liberty  after  he  had 
been  interrogated.  This  promise  was  not  kept.  The 
next  day  Fri  Salvestro,  coming  out  of  his  hiding-place, 
was  in  his  turn  betrayed  by  the  Judas  of  the  convent. 
The  three  Fratri  were  now  kept  for  their  more  formal 
trial. 

The  joy  of  Savonarola's  enemies  knew  no  bounds 
when  they  heard  of  the  success  of  the  trick  played  by 
the  Compagnacci  and  the  Franciscans,  of  the  failure  of 
the  ordeal,  of  the  consequent  revulsion  in  the  popular 
mind,  and  the  arrest  of  the  three  Dominicans.  Briefs 
arrived  from  Rome  telling  the  brethren  of  Santa  Croce, 
and  Fr^  Francesco  in  particular,  how  deeply  the  Holy 
Father  had  felt,  and  how  earnestly  he  would  hold  m 
eternal  remeirbrance  their  "  holy  zeal  and  evangelical 
charity."  As  regarded  the  Signoria,  they  were  declared 
to  be  true  sons  of  Holy  Church,  and  every  blessing  and 
absolution  was  pronounced  upon  them.  But  a  greater 
joy  awaited  the  Pope  and  his  firm  ally,  the  Duke  of 
Milan.  Savonarola  had  still  one  friend,  somewhat  of  a 
broken  reed,  it  is  true,  yet  dangerous  to  his  enemies,  if 


\- 


330 


SAVONAROLA. 


not  entirely  to  be  trusted  by  his  friends.  It  was  to  the 
king  of  France  that  the  Frate  had  turned  as  a  means 
of  assembling  a  council ;  he  could  not  help  thinking  of 
him  as  a  protector  in  his  hour  of  adversity.  Alas,  this 
hope  too  must  now  fail  him  !  On  the  very  day  of  the 
ordeal  Charles  VIII.  had  died  at  Amboise. 

The  enemies  of  Savonarola  had  determined  that  how- 
ever his  trial  might  be  conducted,  his  condemnation 
should  be  obtained.  The  Compagnacci  exhibited  in 
public  the  arms  which  had  been  collected  for  the  de- 
fence of  the  convent,  and  told  the  people  that  these 
were  the  proofs  of  the  miraculous  powers  of  the  Frate, 
and  of  the  love  which  he  bore  to  Florence.  The 
Signoria,  knowing  that  the  Ten  and  the  Eight  were  still 
favorable  to  Savonarola,  determined  to  bring  him  before 
a  special  and  hostile  tribunal.  For  this  purpose  they  ap- 
pointed a  commission  consisting  of  seventeen  examiners, 
with  two  canons.  They  took  care  to  place  on  the  com- 
mission some  of  his  bitterest  enemies ,  among  them  Piero 
degli  Albertl  —  one  of  the  chief  promoters  of  the  ordeal, 
and  the  first  who  had  objected  to  the  vestment  worn  by 
Fr^  Domenico  as  being  enchanted  —  and  Dolfo  Spini, 
the  leader  of  the  Compagnacci.  The  constitution  of  the 
tribunal  was  so  manifestly  unjust  that  one  of  the  com- 
missioners left  it  in  indignation,  declaring  that  he  "  would 
have  no  share  in  this  homicide.**  * 

When  Savonarola  was  brought  before  the  commission 
he  gave  the  same  answer  as  he  had  already  given  to  the 
Signoria,  —  his  doctrine  was  of  God.  To  those  who 
demanded  a  different  reply  he  said,  "Ye  tempt  the 
Lord."     We   have   here  the  whole    substance  of  his 

^  Burlamacchi  gives  the  name  as  that  of  Francesco  degli 
Albizzi.    Villari  shows  that  it  was  Bartolo  dei  Zati. 


MARTYRDOM. 


331 


defence.  Throughout  the  entire  period  which  intervened 
between  his  arrest  on  Palm  Sunday  to  the  day  of  his 
death,  on  the  eve  of  the  Ascension,  he  never  wavered, 
except  under  torture,  in  the  profession  of  his  faith.  It 
is  now  impossible  to  recover  the  true  answers  which  he 
returned  to  the  particular  questions  of  his  judges.  At 
first  he  was  allowed  to  write  his  replies  ;  but  these  were 
found  so  unsatisfactory  for  the  purpose  of  his  condem- 
nation that  they  were  destroyed,  and  his  oral  answers 
were  so  garbled  that  it  is  impossible  to  place  any 
reliance  upon  the  reports. 

The  first  examination  took  place  on  the  Monday  in 
Holy  Week,  before  the  commission  was  made  up.  On 
the  Tuesday  he  was  taken  to  the  upper  hall  of  the 
Bargello,^  interrogated  afresh,  and  when  he  refused  to 
give  the  desired  replies,  put  to  the  torture. 

Pico  della  Mirandola  gives  a  minute  account  ^  of  this 
horrible  punishment  as  applied  to  Savonarola.  His 
hands  were  bound  behind  his  back  with  the  strongest 
chains.  They  were  then  tied  to  a  rope  attached  to  the 
roof  of  the  building,  by  which  he  was  first  drawn  up  to 
a  great  height,  and  then  let  fall  with  great  violence,  so 
that  his  feet  did  not  quite  touch  the  ground ;  and  his 
body,  remaining  suspended  in  the  air,  sprang  upwards 
again,  so  that  his  shoulders  were  put  out  of  joint  and 
his  muscles  strained  and  torn.  Instruments  of  torture 
were  set  before  his  eyes.  Insults  were  heaped  upon 
him,  he  waj  struck  and  spit  upon,  his  torturers  demand- 
ing all  the  time  that  he  should  recant  his  prophecies 
and  disavow  his  pretensions  to  be  a  messenger  of  God. 

1  Opposite  to  the  church  of  the  Badia,  formerly  the  Palazzo 
del  Podest^,  now  a  museum. 
*  Cap.  xvii. 


f 


>  I 


I 


33a 


SAVONAROLA. 


Burning  coals  were  then  applied  to  his  feet,  so  that  the 
flesh  and  nerves  were  half  burned,  in  order  that  he  might 
be  induced  to  retract.  He  refused  to  do  so.  Again 
and  again  they  repeated  the  torture,  and  he  repeated 
his  innocence,  crying  out  with  the  prophet  Elijah  :  Tolie^ 
tolle^  D amine y  animam  meanly  —  "  O  Lord,  take  away 
my  life  ! "  When  the  torture  was  over  and  he  was  led 
back  to  his  cell,  he  immediately  knelt  down  and  prayed, 
in  the  words  of  Christ,  "  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they 
know  not  what  they  do." 

It  is  difficult  to  say  how  often  the  torture  was  applied 
to  him  during  his  two  examinations  before  the  commis- 
sioners, each  of  which  lasted  several  days ;  but  it  is  certain 
that  the  pain  which  he  endured  was  extreme,  and  almost 
maddening.  He  was  of  a  most  delicate  and  sensitive 
organization,  and  while  ready  and  willing  to  die,  he  was 
unable  to  endure  the  agony  which  was  thus  inflicted 
upon  him.  In  the  delirium  produced  by  his  torments 
it  is  said  that  he  gave  utterance  to  many  equivocal 
expressions,  and  even  that  he  confessed  to  being  influ- 
enced by  the  desire  of  glory  and  power.  His  biogra- 
phers relate  that  he  used  the  same  method  before  his 
judges  that  Christ  employed  before  Pilate.  • 

However  this  may  have  been,  his  enemies  found  it 
impossible  to  convict  him  out  of  his  own  mouth.  Their 
questions  had  reference  to  three  points,  —  his  religious 
teaching,  his  political  conduct,  and  his  prophecies.  They 
could  obtain  nothing  from  him  on  the  first  point  which 
they  could  torture  into  a  charge  of  heresy.  On  the 
second  he  is  said  to  have  been  equally  clear  and  dis- 
tinct. On  the  third  his  utterances  were  more  uncertain 
and  wavering. 

When  they  found  that  even  the  torture  could  exti'act 


V^l- 


so  that  the 
at  he  might 
so.  Again 
le  repeated 
jah:  Tolle, 
take  away 
he  was  led 
ind  prayed, 
m,  for  they 

ivas  applied 
he  commis- 
;  it  is  certain 
and  almost 
id  sensitive 
die,  he  was 
lus  inflicted 
lis  torments 
y  equivocal 
being  influ- 
His  biogra- 
i  before  his 

es  found  it 
uth.  Their 
lis  religious 
cies.  They 
point  which 
On  the 
ar  and  dis- 
e  uncertain 

}uld  extract 


MARTYRDOM. 


h 
333 


from  him  nothing  that  was  sufficient  for  their  purpose, 
they  employed  a  notary  named  Francesco  Ceccone,  who 
promised  that  he  would  so  misrepresent  his  words  as  to 
make  him  confess  himself  guilty.  This  man  had  been 
concerned  in  the  conspiracy  of  the  Bigi,  and  is  said  to 
have  been  saved  by  the  interposition  of  Savonarola, 
whom  he  thus  repaid.  Preserving  some  of  his  words, 
he  distorted  their  meaning  by  omissions  and  additions 
which  changed  the  whole  impression  they  were  calcu- 
lated to  produce.  For  instance,  says  Burlamacchi,  he 
was  asked  why  he  had  done  such  great  things  for  Flo- 
rence J  and  when  he  replied,  "  I  have  done  everything 
for  glory,"  —  meaning  for  the  true  glory  of  the  State,  — 
Ceccone  wrote  down  "  for  human  glory." 

It  is  almost  certain  that  something  of  this  kind  took 
place,  and  Signor  Villari,  in  printing  f'le  false  reports 
which  were  ^  published  by  the  Signoria,  has  indicated 
passages  which  are  evident  interpolations ;  but  it  is 
impossible  to  arrive  at  the  truth.  The  stories  told  by 
his  own  biographers  represent  rather  the  view  taken  by 
Savonarola's  own  friends  than  any  ascertained  facts. 
Burlamacchi  relates  that  Ceccone  had  bargained  with 
the  Signoria  for  four  hundred  scutii  for  the  work  which 
he  had  to  do ;  but  the  magistrates  were  so  litde  satisfied 
with  the  result  that  they  paid  him  no  more  than  thirty. 
Complaining  of  this  injustice  to  one  of  the  citizens 
who  happened  to  be  an  adherent  of  the  Frate,  he 
thus   revealed   the  treachery  of  which  he  had  been 

guilty.      ',  -   ■     '  ■>'■,'  ■•■-" 

Pico  relates  a  very  probable  example  of  this  falsifica- 
tion, which  is  said  to  have  taken  place  on  the  19th  of 
April.  The  Frate,  he  says,  had  the  examination  read 
over  to  him,  and  was  asked  by  Ceccone,  in  the  presence 


M 


-•  1: 


334 


SAVONAROLA. 


M 


of  eight  witnesses,  of  whom  six  were  friars  of  St.  Mark's, 
whether  that  which  was  read  was  true  or  false. 

"  To  which  the  man  o'^"  God  replied,  *  What  I  have  writ- 
ten is  true.'  *  Altogether  ? '  he  asked.  *  Altogether,'  he 
replied.  *  To  the  letter  {ad  verbumne)  ?  *  he  was  asked 
again.  *  To  the  letter,'  he  answered.  And  then,  turning 
to  his  friends  who  were  present.,  he  told  them  that  no  one 
was  ignorant  of  his  doctrine  and  manner  of  life,  and  asked 
to  be  commended  to  the  novices,  and  sent  them  an  exhor- 
tation to  live  in  the  fear  of  God,  as  they  had  been  taught ; 
and  entreatef^  that  they  would  offer  earnest  prayers  to  God 
on  his  behalf,  because  the  Spirit  had  almost  left  him." 

In  reference  to  this,  Pico  says  his  enemies  declared 
that  he  had  said,  not  "  What  I  have  written  is  true," 
but  "  What  is  written,"  —  meaning  the  report  of 
Ceccone.^ 

If  Ceccone  failed  to  satisfy  the  Signoria,  the  remem- 
brance of  h's  treachery  is  said  to  have  been  a  heavy 
burden  on  his  own  conscience,  which  became  insup- 
portable as  the  hour  of  death  drew  near.  He  was  taker 
ill  at  his  villa,  f  nd  had  only  one  maid-servant  with  him 
at  the  time.  Ta^o  Dominicans  came  to  the  door,  asking 
alms,  while  he  lay  dying,  and  the  maid  entreated  them 
to  come  and  try  to  bring  her  master  to  confession.  But 
all  was  vain ;  **  he  said  his  sins   were   unpardonable, 

1  Among  the  brethren  of  St.  Mark's  who  were  thus  present  was 
the  Judas,  Fra  Malatesta,  who,  apparently  desirous  of  knowing 
the  truth,  now  asked  Savonarola,  "  But  are  the  things  you  have 
subscribed"  (meaning  the  report  of  Ceccone)  "true  or  false?" 
To  this  question  Savonarola  gave  no  reply,  but  turned  iway 
from  the  traitor  in  indignation.  Sacramoro  then  said,  "  Out  ci 
thy  mouth  I  believed  thee ;  and  now  out  of  thine  own  mouth 
I  disbelieve  thee." 


i 


MARTYRDOM. 


335 


crying  out  that  Judas  had  beti.  yed  only  one,  but  he  had 
betrayed  three ;  and  so  he  died  wihout  confession  and 
absolution." 

The  words  which  Savonarola  had  spoken  to  his 
friends  on  the  loss  of  the  spirit  of  prophecy  represented 
with  truth  his  habitual  feelings  during  this  period  of 
his  imprisonment ;  and  these  feelings  are  probably 
represented  in  many  of  the  expressions  contained  in  the 
falsified  report.  That  he  said  he  was  no  prophet  is  very 
probable :  he  had  said  the  same  in  the  days  of  his 
prosperity  and  power ;  and  such  a  profession  was  in  no 
way  incompatible  with  the  declaration  that  he  had  re- 
ceived from  God  the  message  which  he  had  delivered  to 
Florence,  to  Italy,  and  to  the  Church  at  large.  But 
these  simple  statements  were  not  sufficient  for  his  cruel 
judges.  They  plied  him  with  questions  so  artfully  con- 
trived that  he  could  hardly  answer  them  without  giving 
the  appearance  of  equivocation  and  evasion.  Whether 
his  revelations  were  from  God  or  were  tlie  imaginations 
of  his  own  heart,  it  would  be  impossible  to  answer 
questions  respecting  them  that  would  satisfy  men  blinded 
by  passion  and  hatred.  Many  of  his  answers,  there- 
fore, were  probably  ambiguous ;  but  we  may  safely  put 
down  a  great  deal  of  the  report  of  the  examination  as 
an  entire  fabrication.  For  instance,  when  he  is  repre- 
sented as  saying,  "  This  was  my  hypocrisy,  it  was  my 
pride,"  and  the  like,  we  see  in  these  words,  not  the 
utterances  even  of  the  tortured  and  delirious  victim, 
but  tne  invention  or  tlie  distortions  of  the  notary ;  and 
it  is  certain  that,  when  he  was  before  the  commissioners, 
he  repeatedly  asserted  the  truth  of  his  visions,  at  the 
same  time  that  he  protested  against  these  being  made  a 
ground  of  accusation  against  him,  inasmuch  as  they  did 


336 


SAVONAROLA. 


not  concern  the  State  and  were  not  matters  which  they 
could  either  examine  or  condemn.  If  it  should  be 
believed,  as  some  have  believed,  that  Savonarola  did, 
under  the  torture,  employ  language  which  bore  one 
meaning  in  his  own  mind  and  another  to  his  hearers, 
this  will  not  seem  surprising  if  it  is  remembered  how 
the  last  few  days  had  been  passed  before  his  trial.  On 
the  Saturday  he  had  stood  for  hours  in  the  Piazza  della 
Signoria,  tormented  by  the  tricks  of  the  Franciscans, 
insulted  and  reviled  by  the  people ;  the  next  day  was 
the  terrible  Palm  Sunday,  on  the  evening  of  which  he 
surrendered  to  the  magistrates.  On  the  Monday  he 
had  been  questioned,  with  every  expression  of  inso- 
lent hatred  and  amid  the  tumult  of  the  populace,  in 
the  Palazzo  della  Signoria,  and  on  Tuesday  he  was 
put  to  the  torture  in  the  Bargello,  —  a  process  which 
seems  to  have  been  repeated  day  after  day  during  his 
examination. 

■i  When  the  report  of  this  trial  was  published  —  and 
this  was  not  done  until  it  had  been  altered  again  and 
again  —  it  proved  so  unsatisfactory  that  the  Signoria 
withdrew  all  the  copies  and  destroyed  as  many  as  they 
could  lay  hold  of,  and  published  another  version ;  but 
even  then  it  was  found  to  contain  nothing  which  could 
be  regarded  as  constituting  a  capital  offence.  Having 
thus  failed,  the  Signoria  determined  to  have  a  second 
trial,  which  was  conducted  in  the  same  manner  as  the 
first,  and  with  very  nearly  the  same  results.  To  crown 
the  injustice  of  the  proceedings,  instead  of  reading  the 
conclusion  of  the  trial  before  the  people  and  in  the 
presence  of  the  accused,  in  accordance  with  the  law,  it 
was  read  simply  by  one  of  the  Eight,  who  announced  that 
Savonarola  had    declined  to  be  present,  for  fear  of 


,.»> 


MARTYRDOM. 


337 


which  they 
should  be 
larola  did, 
bore  one 
his  hearers, 
ibered  how 
s  trial.     On 
Piazza  della 
Franciscans, 
;xt  day  was 
)f  which  he 
Monday  he 
Dn  of  inso- 
populace,  in 
lay  he   was 
ocess  which 
y  during  his 

ished  —  and 
d  again  and 
the  Signoria 
lany  as  they 
ersion;  but 
which  could 
e.     Having 
e  a  second 
.nner  as  the 
To  crown 
reading  the 
and   in.  the 
[h  the  law,  it 
lounced  that 
for  fear  of 


being  stoned  by  the  people,  —  a  statement  which  no 
one  believed. 

The  examination  of  the  two  companions  of  Savonarola 
was  conducted  in  a  manner  equally  illegal,  and  if  possi- 
ble, more  cruel  and  deceitful.  They  were  tortured,  of 
course ;  but  they  were  put  to  the  still  more  cruel  torture 
of  being  compelled  to  hear  the  falsehood  that  the  master 
whom  they  loved  had  confessed  himself  a  deceiver.  But 
one  at  least  stood  firm.  They  could  extract  no  word 
from  Fri  Domenico  which  could  by  any  device  be  per- 
verted into  a  recantation  or  a  disowning  of  the  truth 
which  he  believed  he  had  received.  Finding  that  they 
could  not  entrap  him  in  his  words,  they  permitted  him 
to  write  his  defence.  To  this  they  made  great  additions. 
Happily  the  two  versions  are  preserved,  so  that  we  can 
ascertain  the  kind  of  changes  which  the  falsifier  of  these 
documents  introduced.^ 

In  this  document  Yxk  Domenico,  after  declaring  that 
he  spoke  the  truth,  proceeds  to  state  that  he  and  Fra 
Hieronimo  bad  been  opposed  to  resistance  by  arms. 
He  says  that  he  went  to  the  ordeal  by  fire  willingly,  and 
did  not  take  the  Sacrament  with  him  to  prevent  its  tak- 
ing place.  When  he  was  told  that  Savonarola  had  re- 
canted, he  said  that  he  had  always  believed,  and  until 
he  was  shown  better  always  should  believe,  in  the 
prophecies  of  his  master ;  and  after  enumerating  them, 
he  said  they  could  be  no  injury  to  himself  or  to  the 
city ;  "  and  in  these  things  every  one  is  free  to  believe 
what  he  will."  He  said  that  Savonarola  had  never  told 
him  what  to  preach,  but  had  let  him  be  led  by  divine 
inspiration.      When  he  was  pressed  to  say  more,  he 

1  Villari  prints  copies  of  both  among  the  Documenti  at  the 
end  of  the  second  volume  of  the  Italian  edition  of  his  work. 

as 


',*<> 


!. 


.-i 


I 


338 


SAVONAROLA. 


declared  that  he  knew  no  more,  and  that  he  had  simply 
occupied  himself  with  holy  living  and  with  Jesus  Christ, 
King  of  Florence.  If  they  tortured  him  again,  they 
could  make  him  say  nothing  different.  When,  after  be- 
ing again  tortured,  he  was  asked  to  write  what  he  had 
further  to  say,  he  declared  that  he  had  always  believed  in 
the  goodness  and  sincerity  of  the  Frate,  and  had  rendered 
him  obedience  as  his  superior  with  all  simplicity  and 
care.  "  I  have  said,"  he  goes  on  —  and  these  are  his 
last  statements  —  "in  the  pulpit,  to  the  brethren  and 
also  to  laymen,  that  if  I  had  known  in  Fr4  leronimo 
the  least  error  or  deception,  I  should  have  discovered 
and  published  it.  To  himself,  too,  I  have  testified  sev- 
eral times  that  I  should  have  done  it ;  and  I  should  do 
it  now,  if  I  knew  of  any  duplicity  in  him." 

It  was  very  different  with  Fri  Salvestro.  His  char- 
acter has  been  already  described,  and  we  have  heard 
how  he  showed  his  timidity  on  the  evening  of  Palm  Sun- 
day. When  he  was  examined  he  had  only  one  thought, 
—  how  to  avoid  the  torture.  Even  his  answers,  however, 
Villari  thinks,  have  undergone  alteration  at  the  hands  of 
Ser  Ceccone ;  but  a  careful  perusal  of  his  whole  testi- 
mony leaves  upon  the  mind  the  impression  that  no  real 
accusation  could  be  brought  against  Savonarola. 

When  the  brethren  of  San  Marco  were  told  of  the 
recantation  of  their  vicar  their  faith  failed  them.  They 
were  perplexed  and  v^iismayed  by  the  rapid  succession 
of  changes  and  misfortunes  which  had  fallen  upon  them. 
Even  Fra  Benedetto  wavered  for  a  season,  only,  however, 
to  return  in  penitence  and  increased  conviction  to  his 
former  faith.  On  the  21st  of  April  the  fraternity  made 
their  abject  submission  to  Borgia,  and  his  Holiness  gladly 
gave  them  absolution,  especially  as  they  disowned  and 


MARTYRDOM. 


339 


had  simply 
2SUS  Christ, 
again,  they 
;n,  after  be- 
hat  he  had 
believed  in 
ad  rendered 
iplicity  and 
lese  are  his 
rethren  and 
ri  leronimo 
;  discovered 
testified  sev- 
I  should  do 

His  char- 
have  heard 
Df  Palm  Sun- 
lone  thought, 
2rs,  however, 
the  hands  of 
5  whole  testi- 
i  that  no  real 
narola. 

:  told  of  the 
:hem.     They 
Id  succession 
upon  them, 
ily,  however, 
iction  to  his 
Ltemity  made 
(liness  gladly 
isowned  and 


abandoned  "  the  head  of  the  whole  error,  Yrk  Girolamo 
Savonarola !  " 

But  the  time  was  coming  near  for  the  election  of  a 
new  Signoria  j  and  in  spite  of  the  reverses  which  the 
fortunes  of  the  Frate  had  experienced,  his  enemies  had 
some  dread  of  his  party  returning  to  power.  If  this 
happened,  their  cruel  injustice  would  instantly  be  dis- 
covered. They  took  effectual  precautions  to  prevent 
such  an  event.  On  the  day  of  the  assembling  of  the 
great  council  for  the  election  of  the  Signoria  they  took 
care  to  exclude  a  large  number,  some  say  as  many  as 
two  hundred,  of  its  members  who  belonged  to  the  pop- 
ular party.  By  this  means  a  new  Signoria,  of  the  same 
kind  as  their  predecessors,  were  elected,  headed  by  a 
gonfaloniere  named  Vieri  de'  Medici,  "  who  was  worthy 
of  the  name  which  he  bore." 

The  Pope  had  for  some  time  been  insisting  that  Savo- 
narola should  be  sent  to  Rome  to  be  tried  for  his  of- 
fences. The  old  Signoria  had  temporized,  evaded  the 
request,  put  off  givmg  a  final  answer,  until  they  had 
secured  the  election  of  their  successors ;  and  then  the 
Pope  was  informed  that  they  were  unable  to  grant  his 
request.  Amidst  the  masses  of  falsehood  it  is  impossi- 
ble to  discern  their  whole  reason  for  this  refusal.  Cer- 
tain pretexts  were  addressed  to  the  Pope  himself;  other 
more  private  reasons  were  assigned  in  a  letter  to  their 
own  ambassadors.  It  may  have  been  that  they  were 
unwilling  to  part  with  their  authority.  They  may  have 
wished  that  the  death  of  the  Frate  should  take  place  at 
Florence,  to  strike  terror  into  the  hearts  of  his  adhe- 
rents ;  so  at  least  they  said.  Burlamacchi  suggests  that 
they  were  afraid  of  the  falsifications  committed  at  their 
request  by  Ceccone  being  found  out.    They  requested 


34© 


SAVONAROLA. 


V 

^1' 


I 


his  Holiness  to  send  two  commissioners  to  try  the  ac- 
cused in  his  name.  The  Pope  at  last  agreed,  and  the 
commissioners  arrived  at  Florence  on  the  19th  of  May. 
They  were  Giovacchino  Turriano,  General  of  the  Do- 
minicans, and  Francesco  Romolino,  Auditore  of  the 
Governor  of  Rome,  a  Spanish  doctor.  They  were  com- 
missioned by  Alexander  "to  examine  the  errors  and 
crimes  of  those  three  sons  of  perdition,"  —  a  strange  de- 
scription of  men  who  were  to  be  tried  and  examined  1 

Nearly  a  month  had  elapsed  from  the  last  examina- 
tion of  the  three  prisoners,  and  Savonarola  had  employed 
this  interval  in  writing  short  commentaries  on  the  31st 
and  the  51st  Psalms.  In  this  work  he  seems  to  have  re- 
covered all  his  old  energy,  and  writes  as  he  preached. 
Still  he  dwells  upon  his  favorite  thought  of  the  renova- 
tion of  the  Church,  and  finds  consolation  in  the  convic- 
tion of  its  accomplishment.  He  is  a  penitent  sinner, 
but  an  undoubting  believer.  "  I  will  hope,  then,  in  the 
Lord,"  he  writes  in  his  commentary  on  the  Miserere,* 
"  and  soon  I  shall  be  delivered  from  all  tribulation.  And 
by  whose  merits  ?  Not  by  my  own,  but  through  Thine, 
O  Lord  1  I  do  not  offer  my  own  righteousness,  but  I 
seek  Thy  mercy.  The  Pharisees  gloried  in  their  right- 
eousness, so  that  they  have  not  that  of  God,  which  is 
by  grace  alone ;  and  no  one  will  ever  be  righteous  be- 
fore God  by  having  done  the  works  of  the  law  alone." 
One  other  work  he  composed  in  prison :  it  was  his 
'*  Rule  for  a  Good  Christian  Life,"  written  at  the  request 
of  his  jailer,  who  had  been  so  deeply  impressed  by  the 
sanctity  of  his  deportment  that  he  asked  him  to  provide 
him  with  such  a  rule. 

1  This  commentary  soon  ran  into  thirteen  editions.  It  was 
republished  by  Luther  in  1524. 


MARTYRDOM. 


341 


try  the  ac- 
id, and  the 
9th  of  May. 
of  the  Do- 
tore  of  the 
J  were  corn- 
errors  and 
I  strange  de- 
xarai^ed  1 
1st  examina- 
id  employed 
on  the  31st 
s  to  have  re- 
lie  preached. 
■  the  renova- 
a  the  convic- 
litent  sinner, 
then,  in  the 
tie  Miserere,* 
ilation.    And 
rough  Thine, 
isness,  but  I 
their  right- 
ed, which  is 
|righteous  be- 
law  alone." 
it  was  his 
X  the  request 
essed  by  the 
m  to  provide 

llitions.    It  was 


When  the  papal  commissioners  entered  P'lorence,  they 
were  greeted  on  all  sides  with  shouts  of  "  Death,  death 
to  the  Frate  ! "  There  was  no  doubt  of  that  from  the 
beginning.  Romolino  told  some  of  the  Signori  that  he 
had  brought  a  sketch  of  the  sentence  with  him.  The 
trial  was  a  mere  farce.  It  had  been  determined  by  the 
Pope,  as  by  ihe  Signoria,  to  perpetrate  a  judicial  murder. 
There  was  no  attempt  made  to  discover  the  truth,  but 
only  to  get  held  of  something  which  might  criminate  the 
accused.  As  threats  and  abuse  had  no  effect  upon  him, 
he  was  put  to  the  torture.  When  this  was  being  applied, 
he  turned  to  the  magistrates  and  said  aloud,  "  Now  hear 
me,  magistrates  of  Florence,  and  be  my  witnesses.  I 
have  denied  my  light  through  fear  of  torture.  If  I  have 
to  suffer,  I  am  willing  to  suffer  for  the  truth.  That 
which  I  have  spoken  I  have  received  from  God." 
These  words  were  remembered  and  placed  on  record. 
Under  the  torture  he  became  delirious,  and  seems  again 
to  have  had  recourse,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  to 
his  former  ambiguity  of  language.  This  was  when  speak- 
ing of  his  prophecies.  There  was  no  ambiguity  in  his 
utterances  concerning  the  faith  or  the  Cliurch.  The 
next  day  (May  21st)  they  put  him  to  the  torture  again  ; 
but  still  his  answers  were  inconclusive.  Seeing  that  no 
more  could  be  extracted  from  him,  Romolino  told  him 
he  must  return  to-morrow  to  hear  his  sentence.  "  I  am 
a  prisoner,"  he  replied ;  "  I  shall  come  if  they  bring 
me."  The  result  of  this  examination  was  so  unsatis- 
factory that  it  was  not  even  published.  Ceccone  seems 
again  to  have  done  his  best,  but  even  his  garbled  report 
could  only  demonstrate  the  innocence  of  the  accused. 

On  the  2  2d  of  May  they  met  to  decide  the  question 
of  the  guilt  of  Savonarola  and  his  companions.     By  way 


'%  - 


1^,  ..tf } 


n 


34  i 


SAVONAROLA. 


of  making  a  show  of  fairness,  Romolino  suggested  that 
the  life  of  Fr^  Domenico  should  be  spared ;  but  he  was 
told  that  in  that  case  the  whole  doctrine  of  Savonarola 
would  remain  alive.  To  which  Romolino  instantly  made 
answer:  "A  wretched  friar  {frataccio)  more  or  less 
makes  little  difference ;  put  him  to  death,  then ! " 
When  the  Signoria  met  there  was  still  one  man  who 
refused  to  crnsent  to  the  condemnation.  His  name, 
which  deserves  to  be  remembered,  was  Agnolo  Pandol- 
fini.^  To  him  "  it  secmtd  a  very  serious  fault  to  put  to 
deaih  a  man  of  qualities  so  excellent  that  such  an  one 
was  hardly  to  be  seen  in  a  century.  Such  a  man,"  he 
said,  "  would  not  only  bring  back  faith  to  the  world,  but 
also  the  sciences,  with  which  he  was  most  highly  endowed. 
I  therefore  counsel  you  to  keep  him  in  prison,  if  you  so 
wish,  but  preserve  his  life  and  allow  him  to  write,  that 
the  world  may  not  lose  the  fruits  of  his  genius."  The 
answer  was  worthy  of  the  whole  transaction.  "  No  one," 
it  was  said,  "  could  trust  the  new  Signoria  that  might  be 
elected  within  two  months.  The  Frate  would  certainly 
be  set  at  liberty,  and  would  again  bring  confusion  and 
destruction  upon  the  city.  A  dead  enemy  makes  no 
more  war."  It  was  decided  that  they  should  be  first 
hanged,  and  then  burned. 

The  sentence  of  death  was  communicated  the  same 
night  to  the  three  condemned  men.  Savonarola  received 
the  announcement  with  perfect  calm.  He  was  engaged 
in  prayer  wlien  the  messenger  arrived.  He  returned  no 
answer,  but  only  continue  1  more  earnest  and  fervent  in 
his  prayers.  A  member  of  a  society  which  attended 
on  the  condemned  in  their  last  hours,  named  Jacopo 

1  I'hus  Villari  in  his  first  edition.  In  h'":  second  he  gives  the 
surname  as  NiccolinL 


X  ^[ 


MARTYRDOM. 


343 


gested  that 
but  he  was 
Savonarola 
tantly  made 
ore  or  less 
th,  then!" 
e  man  who 
His  name, 
lolo  Pandol- 
ilt  to  put  to 
mch  an  one 
a  man,"  he 
le  world,  but 
ily  endowed, 
jn,  if  you  so 
to  write,  that 
mius."     The 

"No  one," 
hat  might  be 
uld  certainly 

infusion  and 
ly  makes  no 
lould  be  first 

ied  the  same 
irola  received 

was  engaged 
returned  no 
Ind  fervent  in 
lich  attended 

imed  Jaoopo 

Ind  he  gives  the 


Niccolini,  came  to  pass  the  night  with  him.  "  I  do  not 
come,"  he  said  to  Savonarola,  "  to  recommend  resigna- 
tion tc  one  who  has  brought  back  a  whole  people  to  the 
paths  of  virtue."  "  Do  your  duty,"  was  the  only  reply. 
He  refused  to  sup,  lest  it  should  interrupt  his  meditations. 
After  confessing  to  a  Benedictine  monk,  he  asked  Nic- 
colini to  let  him  lay  his  head  upon  his  knees.  In  this 
attitude  he  fell  asleep;  and  as  he  slept  he  talked  and 
smiled.    It  was  a  presage  of  the  coming  peace  and  joy. 

¥rk  Domenico  received  his  sentence  with  the  same 
composure  which  he  had  shown  throughout.  He  re- 
joiced to  suffer  with  his  master  and  for  his  cause.  To 
the  friars  of  Fiesole,  of  which  convent  he  was  prior,  he 
wrote  a  letter  bidding  them  farewell  and  giving  them 
his  last  instructions.  After  asking  for  their  prayers,  and 
bidding  them  salute  the  brethren  of  St.  Mark's,  and 
especially  those  of  Fiesole,  he  gave  a  touching  evidence 
of  his  faithfulness  unto  death.  "  Collect  from  my  cell," 
he  writes,  "  all  the  works  of  our  Father  Girolamo ;  have 
them  bound,  and  place  one  copy  in  the  library,  and  an- 
other in  the  refectory  to  be  read  at  table."  Fra  Salvestro 
was  completely  overwhelmed  by  the  intelligence  of  the 
sentence. 

Before  they  went  to  rest  for  the  night  Savonarola  had 
prayed  Niccolini  to  obtain  for  him  the  last  favor  of  an 
interview  with  his  two  brethren.  After  some  hesitation 
on  the  part  of  the  Signoria  the  request  was  granted. 
They  met  in  the  hall  of  the  great  council,  —  the  very 
chamber  which  had  been  erected  by  the  patriotic  efforts 
of  Savonarola  himself.  It  was  the  first  time  that  they 
had  seen  each  other  since  the  night  when  they  left  St. 
Mark's  for  the  last  time.  It  was  to  be  a  short  interview, 
and  Savonarola  turned  at  once  to  Domenico  and  said 


344 


SAVONAROLA, 


he  knew  that  he  wished  to  be  burned  alive  ;  "  but,"  he 
said,  "  it  is  not  given  to  you  to  choose  the  manner  of 
your  death.  Receive  with  cheerfulness  that  which  God 
has  prepared  for  you.  Who  knows  if  you  will  be  able  to 
bear  that  which  He  has  appointed  ?  —  since  that  depends, 
not  upon  your  own  virtue,  but  on  the  grace  of  God.  It 
is  not,  therefore,  expedient  to  tempt  God."  Domenico 
received  this  counsel  in  silence. 

Turning  then  to  Frk  Salvestro,  he  said,  "  I  know 
that  you  wish  to  declare  your  innocence  before  the 
people.  I  require  you  to  abandon  such  a  thought,  and 
rather  to  follow  the  example  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
Who  not  even  upon  the  cross  would  sj^c  '  of  His  in- 
nocence." Without  answering  a  word  they  both  knelt 
down  before  their  superior,  and  received  his  benediction 
in  silence.  They  were  then  reconducted  to  their  cells 
to  snatch  a  brief  repose,  and  then  to  prepare  themselves 
for  death. 

The  place  of  execution  was  the  same  as  that  ap- 
pointed for  the  ordeal ;  and  on  the  same  ground  which 
had  been  occupied  by  the  scaffold  on  that  occasion  was 
now  raised  another,  about  the  height  of  a  man,  on  which 
were  piled  all  kinds  of  inflammable  materials,  and  at 
the  western  end  a  gallows  with  two  arms,  in  the  form 
of  a  cross.  The  resemblance,  indeed,  was  so  striking 
that  they  cut  off  pieces  from  the  ends  of  the  cross-beam. 
From  the  arms  of  the  cross  hung  three  nooses  and 
chains,  the  chains  intended  to  support  the  bodies  in 
the  fire  after  they  were  strangled.  The  crowds  on  the 
Piazza  were  enormous,  as  on  the  day  of  the  ordeal ;  but 
a  feeling  of  deeper  solemnity  seemed  to  pervade  them. 
On  that  occasion  they  had  been  swayed  by  doubt,  sus- 
pense, eager  curiosity ;  ^low  they  knew  what  Florence, 


MARTYRDOM. 


345 


'but,"  he 
Tianner  of 
irhich  God 
be  able  to 
t  depends, 
fGod.  It 
Domenico 

"  I  know 
before  the 
ought,  and 
sus  Christ, 

of  His  in- 
both  knelt 
:)enediction 
)  their  cells 

themselves 

as  that  ap- 
ound  which 
ccasion  was 
,n,  on  which 
ials,  and  at 
,n  the  form 
so  striking 
cross-beam, 
nooses  and 
bodies  in 
(wds  on  the 
ordeal ;  but 
rvade  them, 
doubt,  sus- 
it  Florence, 


what  Rome  had  decided  to  do  with  the  man  who  had 
built  up  for  them  their  new  system  of  government. 
Many  there  were  who  looked  on  with  savage  exultation, 
knowing  that  the  voice  which  had  rebuked  and  con- 
demned them  could  now  no  longer  disturb  them  in 
their  evil  courses.  Others  —  and  among  them  some 
of  his  political  adversaries  —  were  agitated  and  terrified 
at  the  success  which  had  attended  their  endeavors. 
The  horror  of  the  scene  was  increased  by  the  presence 
of  a  number  of  criminals  let  loose  from  prison  by  the 
Signoria.  These  wretches  had  come,  as  was  evident 
froir  their  words  and  gestures,  to  enjoy  a  festival ;  and 
by  the  insults  which  they  heaped  upon  the  condemned 
men  they  showed  that  they  understood  the  reason  of 
their  liberation. 

The  platform  was  united  to  the  ringhiera  by  a  kind 
of  wooden  bridge,  over  which  the  condemned  men 
were  to  proceed  to  the  place  of  execution.  On  the 
ringhiera  itself  were  erected  three  tribunals.  The  first, 
which  was  nearest  to  the  gate  of  the  palace,  was  for  the 
Bishop  of  Vasona.  He  had  been  appointed  with  a 
refinement  of  cruelty  to  superintend  the  degradation 
of  the  Frate  as  a  Dominican  who  had  himself  received 
the  habit  at  the  hands  of  Savonarola,  although  he  had 
afterwards  become  a  member  of  the  congregation  of 
Santa  Maria  Novella.  The  second  was  for  the  apostolic 
commissaries ;  the  third,  nearest  to  the  Marzocco,  was 
for  the  govfaloniere  and  the  Eight. 

In  the  morning  the  three  Frati  met  again  to  receive 
the  Holy  Communion.  Savonarola,  before  communi- 
cating himself,  took  the  host  in  his  hand  and  offered 
an  earnest  prayer,  "  with  wonderful  joyfulness  of  mind," 
says  Pico. 


346 


SAVONAROLA. 


'•  I  know,  O  Lord,"  —  thus  he  prayed  —  "  that  Thou  art 
the  Supreme  God,  who  didst  make  heaven  and  earth  and 
the  whole  universe.  I  know  also  that  Thou  art  perfect 
and  indivisible  Trinity,  comprehending  three  distinct  Per- 
sons, the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  I  ac- 
knowledge the  Son  as  the  Word  of  the  Eternal  Father, 
who  came  down  from  heaven  to  earth  into  the  womb  of 
the  Virgin  Mary.  Thou,  O  Lord,  didst  ascend  to  the  wood 
of  the  cross,  and  didst  shed  Thy  most  precious  blood  to 
deliver  us  wretched  men  from  sin,  I  pray  and  beseech 
Thee  that  Thy  blood  may  not  have  been  shed  in  vain,  but 
for  the  remission  of  my  sins.  For  all  of  these  which  I 
may  have  committed,  from  the  day  in  which  I  was  washed 
in  the  sacred  waves  to  this  hour,  I  pray  that  I  may  obtain 
pardon  of  Thee,  as  well  as  for  every  offence  and  injury 
which  I  may  have  done  to  this  city,  and  for  every  error  of 
which  I  may  be  ignorant."  * 


\ 


He  then  took  the  Communion,  and  gave  it  to  his  two 
companions.  Shortly  afterwards  they  were  told  that 
they  must  proceed  to  the  Piazza. 

As  they  descended  the  stairs  of  the  palace  they  were 
met  by  a  Dominican  of  Santa  Maria  Novella,  who  had 
orders  to  despoil  them  of  their  habits,  so  that  they  came 
before  their  judges  wearing  only  their  woollen  tunics, 
with  their  feet  bare  and  their  hands  bound  behind  them. 
Savonarola  received  this  unexpected  insult  with  calm- 
ness, but  with  deep  grief.  "O  sacred  habit,"  he  said, 
as  it  was  removed,  "  how  much  I  desired  thee !  By 
the  grace  of  God  thou  wast  granted  to  me ;  and  I  have 


1  Before  he  left  his  cell  he  had  told  Nfccolini  of  the  calamities 
which  were  to  come  upon  Florence,  and  that  they  would  happen 
under  a  pope  named  Clement, — all  of  which  took  place.  Cf. 
Villari,  lib.  iv.  cap.  lO 


MARTYRDOXf. 


347 


Thou  art 
earth  and 
rt  perfect 
itinct  Per- 
St     I  ac- 
al  Father, 
:  womb  o£ 
0  the  wood 
s  blood  to 
id  beseech 
n  vain,  but 
se  which  I 
iras  washed 
may  obtain 
and  injury 
;ry  error  of 


t  to  his  two 
;   told  that 

I  they  were 
a,  who  had 
they  came 
ilen  tunics, 
ihind  them. 
Iwith  calm- 
It,"  he  said, 
thee !     By 
and  I  have 

Ihe  calamities 
^ould  happen 
place.    Cf. 


preserved  thee  unstained  to  this  moment.  Now  I  do 
not  abandon  thee,  but  thou  art  taken  from  me." 

He  then  took  his  place  before  the  first  tribunal,  that 
which  was  presided  over  by  his  old  disciple,  the  Bishop 
of  Vasona.  It  was  no  agreeable  task  that  was  assigned 
to  him,  to  degrade  an  innocent  man,  and  one  whom 
he  had  formerly  venerated  as  his  master.  He  could 
hardly  look  up,  and  seemed  more  like  the  condemned 
criminal  than  the  judge.  The  three  friars  were  placed 
before  him,  vested  again  in  the  religious  habit.  The 
confusion  of  the  bishop  showed  itself  in  his  words.  It 
was  his  office  to  separate  the  prisoners  from  the  Church 
on  earth ;  but  as  he  stammered  forth  the  words,  "  Separo 
teab  Ecdesia  miittante{l  separate  thee  from  the  Church 
militant),"  he  added  in  his  confusion,  "  atque  triiim- 
phante  (and  triumphant)."  "  Miiitante^  yes,"  replied 
Savonarola  at  once ;  "  but  triumphante,  no !  for  this 
does  not  belong  to  you."*  They  were  words  which 
were  heard  by  many,  and  could  never  be  forgotten. 

They  were  then  led  in  their  tunicles  before  the  two 
papal  commissioners.  They  had  just  been  excommu- 
nicated, and  now  they  were  to  be  restored  !  Romolino 
declared  that  he  was  empowered  to  grant  them  plenary 
indulgence.  **  His  Holiness,  our  Lord  Alexander  VI., 
is  pleased  to  deliver  you  from  the  pains  of  purgatory, 
giving  you  plenary  indulgence  of  your  sins,  and  restoring 
you  to  your  first  innocence.  Do  you  accept  it?  "  They 
assented  by  inclining  their  heads. 

They  were  then  taken  before  the  tribunal  of  the 
Eight,  who  as  a  matter  of  custom  went  through  the 

1  Pico :  Militante,  non  triumphante ;  hoc  enim  tuum  non  est. 
Burlamacchi :  Delia  militante  si,  ma  della  trionfante  no,  questo 
a  voi  non  appartiene. 


348 


SAVONAROLA. 


form  of  voting,  and  declared  that  they  were  unanimous 
in  their  condemnation.  They  expressed  their  decision 
in  these  words  :  — 

"  The  gonfaloniere  and  the  Eight,  having  well  considered 
the  trials  of  the  three  friars,  and  the  enormous  crimes  which 
they  reveal,  and  especially  having  considered  the  sentence 
of  the  Pope,  which  consigns  them  to  the  secular  tribunal 
for  punishment,  decree  that  each  one  of  the  three  friars 
shall  be  hanged  on  the  gallows,  and  then  burned,  in  order 
that  their  souls  may  be  entirely  separated  from  their 
bodies." 

They  were  then  led  to  the  place  of  execution.  The 
platform  had  been  so  roughly  constructed  that  gaps 
were  left  between  the  planks.  Through  these  some  of 
the  mob  thrust  sharp  stakes,  to  wound  the  naked  feet  of 
the  condemned  as  they  passed  along.  Then  Fri  Sal- 
vestro,  who  up  to  that  time  had  shown  the  greatest 
timidity  and  terror  at  the  near  prospect  of  death,  seemed 
to  become  inspired,  and  his  face  shone  as  he  told  Sa- 
.'Oiiarola  that  they  must  now  endure  dtiath  with  a  ready 
and  courageous  mind.  Savonarola  exhorted  him  and 
Domenico  to  rem  sin  steadfast,  to  dismiss  all  fear  and 
anxiety,  saying  tUat  they  should  thus  the  sooner  come  to 
heaven,  where  they  would  sing  that  psalm  of  David, 
Ecce  quant  bonum^  — "  Behold,  how  good  and  how 
pleasant  it  is  for  brethren  to  dwell  together  in  unity  ! " 

Amid  the  insults  which  were  poured  upon  them  as 
they  parsed,  there  were  not  wanting  expressions  of 
griuf  and  sympathy.  Some  exhorted  them  to  die  with 
a  willing  mind ;  some  are  said  to  have  offered  them 
food.  "  Why,"  asked  Savonarola,  "  should  you  offer  such 
things  to  me,  who  am  about  to  leave  this  life  ? "  and 
again,  "  In  the  last  hour  only  God  is  needed  to  comfort 


MARTYRDOM. 


349 


lanimous 
decision 

onsidered 
nes  which 
I  sentence 
ir  tribunal 
iree  friars 
d,  in  order 
:rom  their 

ion.    The 
that  gaps 
e  some  of 
ked  feet  of 
n  Fri  Sal- 
)e  greatest 
ith,  seemed 
le  told  Sa- 
ith  a  ready 
him   and 
lU  fear  and 
ler  come  to 
of  David, 
and  how 
unity!" 
in  them  as 
essions  of 
;o  die  with 
fered  them 
offer  such 
iife?"  and 
to  comfort 


mortals."  A  priest  named  Nerotto  asked  him,  '*  With 
what  mind  do  you  endure  this  martyrdom?"  He 
simply  replied,  "  Should  I  not  die  willingly  for  Him  who 
suffered  as  much  for  me  ?  "  and  raising  up  his  eyes  to 
his  cricifix,  he  kissed  it. 

Fra  Domenico  v/as  worthy  of  himself  to  the  last. 
He  was  so  serene  and  cheerful  that  he  seemed  like 
**  one  going  to  a  dance,  and  not  to  death."  He  wished 
to  sing  the  Te  Deum  aloud  as  he  went  along ;  but  at 
the  request  of  Savonarola  he  desisted,  saying,  "  Accom- 
pany me  then  in  an  undertone ; "  and  so  they  recited 
it  throughout;  after  which  he  added  to  those  nearest, 
"  Remember  that  the  prophecies  of  Fra  Girolamo  must 
all  be  fulfilled,  and  that  we  all  die  in  innocence." 

Frk  Salvestro  was  the  first  to  die.  He  mounted  to 
his  place  with  a  firm  step,  in  silence,  but  "  with  some 
tears  in  his  eyes ; "  and  murmuring,  "  Lord,  into  Thy 
hands  I  commend  my  spirit,"  he  gave  his  neck  to  the 
executioner,  and  speedily  was  dead.  He  was  followed 
immediately  by  Fri  Domenico,  whose  face  shone  with 
joyful  hope,  as  though  he  were  already  in  the  antechamber 
of  heaven. 

Last  of  all  came  Savonarola,  softly  reciting  the 
Apostles'  Creed.  He  was  so  absorbed  in  devotion 
that  he  seemed  scarcely  aware  of  what  was  passing 
around  him  ;  but  as  he  took  his  place  under  the  cross 
he  cast  one  look  of  sorrowful  reproach  upon  the  multi- 
tudes whom  he  had  so  often  taught,  guided,  and  com- 
forted. How  different  were  those  upturned  looks  from 
the  faces  which  had  hung  upon  his  words  a  few  short 
months  before !  An  awful  silence  fell  upon  the  people 
as  they  stood  to  witness  the  death  of  their  prophet. 
It  was  broken  by  a  harsh  voice  which  shouted  in  deri- 


350 


SAVONAROLA. 


Mi  ; 


sion,  "  Now,  prophet,  is  the  moment  to  work  a  miracle." 
Others  he  saw  with  torches  in  their  hands,  ready  to  set 
fire  to  the  pile  wh'jh  was  to  consume  the  bodies.  It  is 
said  that  his  last  »vords  were  :  **  O  Florencr  !  what  hast 
thou  done  to-day?"  "He  died,"  says  Guicciardini, 
"convinced  of  his  innocence  and  pen  trated  by  the 
most  lively  feelings  of  charity.  Sustained  by  hope,  he 
suffered  no  loss  of  firmness  and  composure.  No  word 
escaped  from  him  either  of  confession  or  protestation." 
It  was  the  23d  of  May,  the  vigil  of  the  Ascension,  1498, 
about  ten  o'clock  in  the  forenoon;  and  he  was  now 
forty-five  years  of  age. 

The  executioner,  thinking  to  please  the  mob,  began 
to  act  the  buffoon  over  the  dead  body  as  it  swung  from 
the  beam,  and  in  doing  so  very  nearly  fell  off  the 
scaffold.  Exclamations  of  horror  broke  from  the  by- 
standers, and  the  magistrates  sent  him  a  severe  reproof. 
Some  tried  to  kindle  the  pile  so  that  the  flames  might 
reach  the  body  before  life  was  extinct ;  but  he  had 
died.  One  man  shouted  as  he  applied  his  torch, "  I  am 
at  last  able  to  burn  the  man  who  would  have  liked  to 
burn  me."  As  the  flames  arose,  the  wind  blew  them 
aside ;  and  the  excited  people,  ready  for  any  prodigy, 
exclaimed,  "  A  miracle  !  a  miracle  !  "  and  many  fled 
across  the  Piazza.  But  the  wind  fell,  and  the  flames  soon 
consumed  the  cords  which  bound  his  arms.  His  right 
hand  and  arm,  raised  by  the  action  of  the  fire,  seemed 
to  the  eyes  of  his  adherents  as  though  lifted  up  to  bless 
the  people  that  had  murdered  him.  Some  of  them 
knelt  down  on  the  ground,  regardless  of  the  place  and 
the  beholders.  His  enemies  took  no  less  part  in  the 
scene.  Showers  of  stones  were  thrown  at  the  burning 
bodies,  and  pieces  were  struck  off  and  scattered  over 


MARTYRDOM. 


351 


miracle." 
idy  to  set 
es.     It  is 
vhat  hast 
cciardini, 
a  by  the 
hope,  he 
No  word 
:estation." 
ion,  1498, 
was  now 

10b,  began 
(vung  from 
ill  off  the 
m  the  by- 
ire  reproof, 
imes  might 
It  he  had 
rch, "  I  am 
e  liked  to 
(lew  them 
|y  prodigy, 
many  fled 
ames  soon 
His  right 
e,  seemed 
p  to  bless 
of  them 
place  and 
art  in  the 
burning 
;ered  over 


the  Piazza.  A  chi  ■  d  picked  up  one  of  Savonarola's  fingers 
and  carried  it  home  to  its  mother.  The  bodies  were 
conveyed  in  carts  and  cast  into  the  Arno ;  but  frag- 
ments which  fell  out  by  the  way  were  gathered  up  and 
preserved  as  relics.  Pico  dclla  Mirandola  tells  us  that  he 
secured  a  portion  of  the  heart  of  the  Frate,  which  had 
been  recovered  from  the  river.  It  was  believed  that 
mirades  were  wrought  by  means  of  these  relics. 

History  tells  us  of  the  miseries  which  were  in  store 
for  Florence  in  the  future.  The  bitterest  enemies  of 
the  Frate  knew  their  error  too  late,  when  they  were 
forced  to  make  common  cause  with  the  Piagnoni  against 
the  tyrants  who  sought  to  bring  them  under  their 
former  bondage.  The  excellence  of  Savonarola's  policy 
has  been  acknowledged,  not  by  mere  partisans,  but  by 
historians  who  had  little  sympathy  with  his  prophecies 
or  with  his  religious  reform.  The  ruin  of  Florence  was 
the  result  of  the  restoration  of  the  Medici,  and  from 
that  time  it  has  never  recovered  its  ancient  position  in 
Italy  and  in  Europe.  Some  of  the  causes  which  led  to 
the  failure  of  the  work  of  Savonarola  we  have  endeav- 
ored to  indicate.  Of  the  man  himself,  of  his  intellectual 
and  moral  greatness,  of  his  simplicity  and  godly  sin- 
cerity, of  the  nobih"ty  of  his  aims  and  the  sanctity  of  his 
life,  none  will  doubt  who  carefully  and  candidly  consider 
the  testimony  of  his  words  and  deeds.  If  there  are  any 
who  will  still  bring  against  him  the  mere  vulgar  charges 
of  fanaticism,  or  even  of  imposture,  we  can  only  say, 
"Wisdom  is  justified  of  her  own  children." 

"  From  his  early  5'outh  to  the  day  in  which  he  was  led 
forth  to  die  on  the  gallows,"  says  the  Padre  Marchese,  "  he 
was  always  equal  to  himself  in  the  innocence  of  his  life, 
in  the  love  of  truth,  in  his  charity  towards   the  human 


iM'' 


Hi 


ii 


35* 


SAVONAROLA. 


race.  It  must  be  confessed  that  if  perchance  he  erred 
in  the  selection  of  the  means  which  he  adopted  in  order 
to  attain  his  ends,  he  had  not  for  his  object,  as  some 
assert,  an  ambition  for  worldly  power,  or  any  less  noble 
end,  but  only  the  elevation  of  that  most  degraded  gen- 
eration of  the  fourteenth*  century  to  the  sublime  per- 
fection of  Christianity."* 

1  As  we  should  say,  fifteenth. 

3  Avvertimento  to  the  Lettere  Inedite  of  Savonarolain  Archi- 
vio  Istorico. 


THE  END. 


tice  he  erred 
»pted  in  order 
;ct,  as  some 
ly  less  noble 
jgraded  gen- 
sublime  per- 


larolain  Archi- 


